


Crime and punishment

by plaktow



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Planet, Bottom Spock, Dom/sub, Dominance, Erotica, Gothic, Imprisonment, Klingon, Light Bondage, M/M, Obedience, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaktow/pseuds/plaktow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aboard the Enterprise, Kirk gets a call from a space station: his first officer has been arrested. Warm sensations engulf the long-lonely captain when he sees the handcuffed Spock locked in a jail. After a romp or two Spock is released, but new challenges await on their next missions: A new side of Spock is revealed to Jim, and scientific curiosity nearly gets them all killed.</p><p>A completed story with humor, drama and of course lots of slashy action. Took some artistic liberties with the canon, here, but still: enjoy! :)</p><p>Also available on KSArchive: http://ksarchive.com/viewstory.php?sid=5441</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***NOTE: This fic is not 100% according to the canon. There are Klingons and a holodeck.***

’Sir? Sir, I must ask you to leave.’

Spock raised an eyebrow questioningly.

‘Now. The Hall is intended for local use only.’

‘I’m required to inform you –‘

‘Out. We don’t tolerate your kind here. Aliens aren’t welcome. Guards! Guards! Throw him out!’

***

‘Bridge to Captain.’

Uhura’s voice from the communicator was merely a slight disturbance to Kirk, who sat on a plush velvety chair, leaning on his right elbow. A half-hearted smile played on his lips, as the voluptuous green-skinned woman was dancing in front of him. Her face was fierce but beautiful, her hair wild and black, and her body perfect, covered by silvery chains and nearly transparent silk. Her body twisted and turned with the exotic melody surrounding them.

‘Bridge to Captain. Come in, Captain.’                                                                                                       

Looking straight at Kirk with her inviting bedroom eyes the woman lay down on colorful pillows spread on the floor. She grinned, as if daring Kirk to accompany her. Her breasts were perfectly round and firm, as she rolled on her back and licked her lips invitingly.

‘Sir, the space station headquarters are hailing us. Please come in.’

With a sigh, Kirk told the holodeck computer to stop the program. He activated the communicator on the wall.

‘Kirk here. Patch it through, Uhura. I’ll take it to the holodeck.’

While he waited for Uhura to patch the space station through, Kirk sighed again. The program had done nothing to ease his tenseness. The woman hadn’t lit even the slightest spark in him.  He could’ve just as well watch a tribble scutter around in circles. He felt like an overheated hyperdrive engine, full of power but nowhere to vent it.

Soon an unknown, slighty raspy voice greeted him through the communicator.

‘Am I addressing the Captain of the Federation starship Enterprise?’

‘I am James Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise. What is it?’

‘Your non-human officer, Mr. Spock, has arrived on our station. Does he have your permission, Sir?’

‘Commander Spock is my first officer. He has been granted shore leave, and is free to spend it as he likes. I am aware that he took the shuttle to the station in order to examine the local data banks. Is something wrong?’ Kirk was aware of the edge in his voice. What did they think, that Mr. Spock was his pet or a slave?  A shiver ran down his spine, and his throat felt suddenly dry. Probably due to stress.

‘I see. Mr. Spock has been placed under arrest. Our policies require that someone from your ship, either you or a senior officer, arrives on the station to attend his hearing. May I inq-‘

‘On my way’.

The empty was left as it was, forgotten in an empty holodeck, as Kirk hurried to the shuttle bay.

***

A young Klingon escorted Kirk through the corridors of the detention center. Round cells surrounded by a glimmering energy shield were mostly empty, but some held creatures and beings Kirk had never seen before. Some were making, for a want of a better word, noise. Some followed Kirk and the jailor with their various eyes, some threw themselves against the shield in frustration. The place smelled.

The jailor stopped abruptly, and said something Jim didn’t catch. He saw Spock… and nothing else. There he was, standing tall and proud, face calm as ever, in the middle of a round, small cell. Through the shimmering shield Kirk could see Spock had a collar on. A flicker in Spock’s eyes was the only signal of recognition Kirk could see. But there was something… something in the way he stood there,  captured, collared… Jim swallowed.

‘Sir, I asked you already. Is this your officer?’ the Klingon was looking suspiciously at Jim.

‘He… yes, he is. He is my … officer.’

Spock remained perfectly still. His noble head was held high, and his eyes had the proud look of a captive wild animal. Only when the Klingon turned off the shield and walked Spock out of the cage, holding him by the arm, Kirk noted that Spock’s hands were cuffed behind his back. Kirk drew a sharp breath. He realized his heart was racing. He was confused. He’d interrogated Spock before, why did his body react like this?

Spock and Jim were lead into a small office, where they were greeted by an official-looking woman and an older man, who introduced himself as the same official who had contacted Kirk. The hearing was quick and simple. According to the space station rules, only humans were allowed to browse the vast data library. Spock, due to his half-Vulcan heritage, had violated this rule. The actual crime was the violation of Federation General Order 3.

‘According to the Rule, his punishment shall be determined by local governmental bodies. That’s us,’ stated the older man, continuing, ‘And he will be sentenced to three local days of detention, and a fine of 150 Federation credits. Leks, litas, darseks or latinum are not accepted.’

Kirk licked his lips quickly, and leaned towards the man in his seat.

‘As his Captain, I suggest we take Mr. Spock into custody aboard the Enterprise. The fine will be paid as you demanded.’

‘Captain, our station has always collaborated with the Federation. We shall accept your suggestion, and rely on your word of honor that the culprit will be punished accordingly. You’re ready to leave as soon as we get a confirmation that the fine has been paid.’

Kirk risked a glance at Spock, who was sitting down, still collared and handcuffed, but mildly surprised. He attempted to say something, but the collar buzzed briefly and Spock tensed for a second. _Pain_ , Kirk thought, _they keep him quiet with the collar. They keep him subdued. And I’m taking him back with me._ Another shiver ran down his spine. His lips parted expectantly, and his golden eyes were sparkling. A feeling he had been waiting for a long time engulfed him, and he felt a warm pressure in his midsection. His skin was prickling pleasantly, and his underpants were feeling just a tad too small.

He had found a vent for his pent-up need.

 


	2. Chapter 2

At the conference room Kirk was negotiating their next missions with the Starfleet base of operations. There was a batch of medication needed in the Beta quadrant, which was a considerable distance away from their current location and from the medicine supplier, but offered excellent possibilities for scientific work on the way. Then there were scientists waiting for a ride to the Outer Arm, and a diplomat who wanted to visit the Romulans, again in the Beta quadrant.

And then there was Spock. Confined in his own quarters. Like a prisoner… _or a slave_. Kirk shook his head to clear his thoughts.

‘I’ll check with Engineering first, Admiral. I will contact you again tomorrow at fourteen hundred hours. Enterprise out.’

But there was so much other things to do. Reports to sign, contacts to be made, checklists to go through. For the first time Kirk felt unsure on the bridge. _Spock, subdued, chained._ He thought Mr. Sulu gave him an odd look, and forgot to acknowledge the end of shift –report when it was presented to him. _The proud Vulcan was captured and at his mercy_. When the shift ended, Kirk was already entering the turbolift. Behind him every face on the bridge was staring at the closing doors, but only McCoy was smiling.

‘Crew deck,’ he commanded, and ran fingers through his hair. He felt like a little boy before his first date: vaguely expectant, but mostly just horribly, horribly scared.

Guards were stationed in front of Spock’s door. They both saluted smartly as Kirk entered the corridor and requested to enter the room. The guards opened the door for him: due to Spock’s imprisonment, the door could not at the moment be opened from the inside.

‘He must have a lot of worries, that Captain,’ mused the other guard when the doors had closed again.

‘I’d almost say he looked … well, fidgety.’

‘No wonder, I’ve heard he’s been friends with Mr. Spock since the Academy. It must be unnerving to keep your buddy locked up like that,’ wondered the other before letting his eyes follow the pretty form of a passing young female crewman.

Inside Spock’s quarters very similar thoughts were bouncing around Kirk’s mind. They had been friends for a long time. Spock was the apparently cold and emotionless one, Kirk the ladies’ man, the charmer. But it had been a long while since Kirk had been with a woman, and even longer since he had been interested in one. Had he ever really been? Was it friendship that kept him so close to Spock, that bound them together?

‘Captain,’ Spock acknowledged Kirk’s presence with a brief nod. His hands were still tied. Apparently his hands were uncuffed only temporarily when he was allowed to eat and use the men’s room. The collar was on, although not anymore in speech-activation mode. Kirk had been given a small device which could activate the collar, just like Spock’s attempt to speak had activated it on the station.

Spock sat on the floor with his legs crossed, dressed only in tight black slacks. He raised his aristocratic head to glance at Kirk, who stood in front of him. The collar on his neck shone faintly.

‘Captain, I believe this control device can be safely removed now. I will cause no trouble during my absence from the bridge.’

But Kirk just stared at him. Spock was sitting so still, but so ( _subdued_ ) calm. On its own accord Kirk’s hand touched Spock’s jet black hair. Kirk stroke the Vulcan’s hair gently.

‘Captain?’

Spock made an attempt to stand up, but Kirk pressed him back down gently but deliberately. He grabbed a tuft of Spock’s hair, and pulled his hair back, forcing the Vulcan to look up to him. Spock’s dark eyes were full of questions. Kirk cocked his head.

‘Spock… you’re beautiful.’

His fingertips caressed the pointy tips of Spock’s ears, while his other hand still tugged the black hair. Kirk’s fingers moved on their own volition, drawing a line from Spock’s ear down his pale cheek, briefly crossing the thin, slightly parted lips. He kneeled down and looked his first officer straight in the eyes.

‘You’re beautiful. And you’re mine.’

‘Jim, I do not understand. I have been assigned as your first officer, and I have made to requests to be relieved from my position.’

‘I think you do understand.’ Kirk let go of Spock’s hair, and placed his both hands on Spock’s strong shoulders. The room temperature here was almost too hot for humans, but the fiery heat inside Jim was worse. It was burning him almost painfully. He raised Spock’s chin with his fingers, and leaned closer.

When their lips met, Spock did not flinch. He did not retreat, nor did he answer to the kiss. His lips tasted slightly sweet, and Kirk was pleasantly surprised to find they were soft and unresisting. The unresponsiveness was actually better than Kirk had expected… or feared. Slowly Kirk opened his hazelnut eyes. Spock was sitting absolutely still. He was barely breathing. Jim took his chained hands to his own, and felt Spock’s pulse through the pale, greenish skin of his wrists. His pulse was fast, like that of a little bird.

‘Jim, please explain your-‘

Spock’s voice was cut short, when Jim reached to his pocket and activated the collar. There was no time to argue. His own heart was thundering in his chest, and his breathing was deep and haggard. His loins were on fire. _Spock must see what he’s doing to me,_ Kirk thought frantically, _he must see it. He knows. Damn it! My hands are shaking, I’ve just kissed him, and he asks me to explain?_

 ‘No. You do understand. You don’t oppose me, so you must want this too,’ Jim spoke softly, and gently pushed Spock down on the floor. The Vulcan tried to resist, but only slightly. His strength was three times greater than Jim’s, who wasn’t lacking in muscles either. Even chained, the Vulcan could easily overpower Jim. But now he surrendered, and made no arguments as Jim pressed his chest until Spock was lying on the floor, his hands still tied behind his back. Jim swallowed audibly and crawled astride on top of him, still caressing Spock’s smooth chest.

Spock closed his eyes. Jim leaned down and softly, tentatively kissed those blue-tinted eyelids. His other hand edged upwards to Spock’s neck, and to the collar. Jim’s lips planted soft kisses on Spock’s high cheekbones. The Vulcan turned his head ever so slightly to meet with mouth, but the captain denied him the pleasure. Instead his lips found Spock’s ear, which was greeted with a deep intake of breath. Jim’s fingers were charting the geography of the Vulcan’s body, while the wet tip of his tongue was trailing the tendons on Spock’s neck, and drawing the curvature of his jaw. Spock arched his back as Jim moved lower. His lips found a green nipple, and his tongue flicked over the nub playfully. Teasingly Jim sank his teeth to the Vulcan skin before continuing his exploration on the cool skin.

Kirk felt a dull pain in his groin. He adjusted his position on top of Spock, and heard the Vulcan grunt as Kirk’s bulging erection pressed gently against his flat abdomen. Kirk’s pants were moist already, his body could only barely contain the lust raging within him.

‘Oh jesus, Spock, you’re fantastic,’ he whispered, and let his tongue get tangled in the dark hair around Spock’s navel. He glanced lower, and realized he had been right. Spock did understand. Kirk’s one hand was again stroking Spock’s cheek. He felt his delicate fingers cross Spock’s warm lips, and felt a hot tongue touching his fingertip. Spock started to kiss the fingers caressing him, and gently sucking them. Warm waves of pleasure washed over Jim. He burrowed his face on Spock’s abdomen, unable to concentrate on anything else but the tongue playing on his fingers, the eager mouth sucking him. Jim’s cock was throbbing with delight. Kirk could smell Spock’s excitement: his salty aroma was mixed with the sweaty sweet scent of Kirk’s own arousal.

But Jim was not going to give Spock everything at once. Oh no, no: he had several days of imprisonment left. Reluctantly Jim drew his hand away, and kissed his way back up to the Vulcan’s neck. Supporting Spock’s neck and grabbing his hand Jim helped the Vulcan sit up. Spock’s eyes were pleading, his mouth was still invitingly open, and the tips of his beautiful ears were shivering. But he didn’t say a word. Once more Jim leaned close to him. This time Spock kissed his captain enthusiastically, kissing his lips over and over again, letting their tongues mingle. Kirk’s agile fingers touched the locking mechanism of the collar, and with a click the collar was opened and fell to the floor.

And there it stayed, while Kirk got up and turned away from Spock, who remained seating on the floor, breathing heavily, looking up to his captain ( _his master_ ).

‘I will come back and check on you tomorrow. Be good now,’ Kirk said without looking back. He fought hard to control his voice, and even harder to keep himself from turning and making love to Spock right there and then. The wait would make it even sweeter, when he would finally allow his new pet to play with him.

When the doors opened and closed, it sounded like an airlock was emptied: it sounded final. Again the guards by the door saluted, but Kirk paid no attention to them. He was sweating, and in a desperate need to find a solitary place where he could release his tensions. But he would not do it. Not himself, and not yet.

 


	3. Chapter 3

After his last visit to Mr. Spock, Kirk had been even more nervous than before. His emotions, those recently awoken by Mr. Spock, were a heap of autumn leaves, fluttering around in the gentlest of breezes, beautiful but at the same time a sign of something dark and cold. Kirk had to admit he found Mr. Spock attractive. Something about the stoic Vulcan drew Kirk towards him, ignited thoughts buried long ago under duties and obligations.  Like strong alcohol, Spock’s presence seemed to melt away Kirk’s self-control... and it was not entirely unpleasant.

At fourteen hundred hours Kirk contacted the Admiral, as he had promised. According to the recommendations made by the scientists and engineers, the Enterprise would first pick up some medicine, then a team of xenobiologists and finally carry them all closer to the β-Quadrant. Kirk left the briefing room and stopped by the bridge to confirm new course coordinates. Armoring himself with thoughts of Very Professional And Official Starfleet Business, Kirk went talk with Spock about the new missions.

 _Master your emotions_ , whispered his consciousness. It had Spock’s deep voice.  _Shut up! This is important,_  argued Kirk’s sense.  Even deeper in his mind, unconsciousness was preparing a hell of a party with the libido.

Two guards in their bright red shirts were still guarding Spock’s cabin. The science officer was on his second day of imprisonment due to alleged infringement of a space station’s anti-alien rules.  Kirk had volunteered ( _desired_ ) to have Spock spend that time on board ( _close to him_ ) rather than on station. But the Vulcan was still a ( _desirable creature_ ) commander and Kirk’s ( _lover_ ) first officer. He’d need to hear about the new mission.   _And that’s the_ only _reason I’m visiting him. This time._

 _This is serious,_ the sense reminded Kirk.  _No hanky-panky now._

Kirk found Spock sitting by his computer terminal in deep concentration.  The room was dim. Spock was dressed in common robes in colors of ocher, grey and brown, like the deserts of the lost planet Vulcan. His posture was proud, and even when sitting still, he seemed to radiate mental and physical strength. Kirk stood still, just looking at Spock, and how his face shimmered faintly in the light of the computer screen. It was like looking at a very fine painting.  _He truly is beautiful_.

Hearing the door open and close, Spock turned and nodded to Kirk. Spock’s face was even more stunning in the half-light. The light highlighted his high brows, silky black hair and cheekbones, while the shadows made his eyes shine even brighter.  Spock’s hands, mostly obscured by the shadows, were still tied at the wrists, so he kept his hands calmly on his lap. A memory of sitting on that lap and feeling Spock’s warm body beneath him sprung to Kirk’s mind. He shook his head, and tried to ignore the light tingling in his loins.

‘Yes Jim, what is it?’

That voice. That deep, velvety voice… Spock could have been cursing, and it would’ve sounded like the loveliest phrases of Shakespeare. His voice bypassed Jim’s ears and went directly to his soul.

‘Erm… Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Spock. Uh, there was … there was something I wanted to talk to you about,’ Kirk managed. His own voice sounded weak, and his body felt clumsy and stiff in comparison with Spock.  Still, he rallied bravely and presented Spock with the new mission parameters. Later he was slightly unsure whether he had been talking about flying the medicine to get the Enterprise, or possibly medicating the xenobiologists with a distant planet.

Spock looked at Kirk questioningly for a moment.  Kirk was still seemingly very interested in the design of Spock’s workstation, general Starfleet model.

‘I was just analyzing the plans with the ship’s computer when you arrived, Jim,’ Spock finally admitted. ‘The missions seem logical under the circumstances.’

Jim found himself admiring Spock once again.  _He is efficient alright, and disciplined. I wonder what’s beneath that placidity?_ Kirk had seen a glimpse of it before, but it had only piqued his interest in the Vulcan. He felt an urge to rip the mask of calm from that face, to see serenity be replaced by lust and to hear those lips utter cries of pleasure. Spock was handcuffed, what could he do to oppose Kirk? And his robes, easy to undress – had be chosen those just for Kirk? Weren’t Spock’s eyes gleaming mischievously, inviting Kirk, daring him to step closer…

 Kirk realized he’d have to leave. Now. Before something-

‘Captain?’ asked Spock, his head cocked to one side, but his face still a mask of calm.  _That detachment on his face! Does he think he can tease me any way he likes? Well, this is a game two can play!_

‘Yes, what is it, Mr. Spock?’ Kirk asked. His voice was suddenly mellow and sweet. Something in Kirk’s mind was trying to be heard. Something which he had, since morning, kept buried under heaps and heaps of Starfleet rules and regulations.   _Oh, I’ll show you how it’s done, my little Vulcan…_

‘I find human impulsiveness often to be both illogical and ill-advised,’ announced the Vulcan, ‘but … yesterday… ’ Spock seemed unable to continue. His logic presented him no solutions to the situation. How to explain emotions without admitting their existence? How to explain passion with logic? After a while he stood up and faced Kirk. Kirk could smell the Vulcan’s mild, alluring scent.  

 _That’s right, my sweet, come closer. I will show you pleasures unheard of in that cold, calculating mind of yours._  At this thought Kirk’s sense packed its bags and left.

Slowly Spock raised his hands towards Jim. With an encouraging smile Kirk raised his own, and touched Spock. For a moment Kirk caressed the backs of those elegant Vulcan hands, then raised them to his lips and gently kissed the green-tinted pale skin. Kirk closed his eyes, and felt the fingers on his lips relax, as the Vulcan surrendered to his kisses.

Too soon Spock pulled his hands away. Jim’s eyes opened in a silent question. Had he after all been too forward? But Spock made no attempt to back away. Looking intently in Jim’s eyes, Spock brought his hands closer to Jim’s face, his fingers spread out in a familiar mind-meld fashion.  _He has to show me_ , Jim thought.  _Whatever it is he cannot speak of, he’ll make me experience it, too._ Spock’s fingers pressed onto his face. Kirk drew breath and closed his eyes, preparing for the joining of the minds.

‘ _McCoy to Kirk. McCoy to Kirk_.’

Spock froze. Kirk tried to will the voice to go away.

‘ _Jim, come in before I make you walk all the way to the sickbay and force a medical check-up on you_ ,’ McCoy’s jesting voice threatened from Kirk’s personal comm console.

‘May I?’ Kirk confirmed in a resigned voice.  Spock nodded in acceptance. Kirk developed a false smile, picked up the communicator and replied: ‘You do that, Bones, and I’ll confiscate your medical brandy for a week’.

 _‘Remember the collar they put on Mr. Spock at the station?’_  Bones asked. Jim swallowed, and glanced at the floor, from where a certain collar had apparently disappeared.  _Damn_. His gaze fell on Spock’s hands, so eager to be kissed.  _Damn it to hell!_

‘I do. What about it?’ Jim responded, and heard a shuffle. Spock took a step towards him, his robes rustling quietly. Kirk backed away to allow Spock pass, but was surprised when the Vulcan moved with him. By slowly walking towards him, Spock forced Jim to walk backwards, past the partition wall, and towards the sleeping area. Spock’s gaze stayed locked on Jim’s eyes. Spock’s lips parted slightly: the only sign that he was agitated, that he needed something.

 ‘ _Well, for one thing, it wasn’t on Spock. It had opened and fallen to the floor_ ,’ came McCoy’s voice.

‘Maybe the guards took it off?’ Kirk suggested, trying his best to sound surprised, and absolutely not guilty. He thought he was doing quite well, until he heard McCoy’s chuckle. At the same time, Spock kept herding him until Kirk felt his legs bump to the side of Spock’s bunk. Spock gave a little smile, and breathed towards Jim gently, like a summer wind. Jim’s feet gave out, and he fell down on to the bed. The tingling in Jim’s loins returned, stronger this time. Spock could command him by mere gaze. The captain was like a puppet to the Vulcan. Kirk couldn’t resist him if he wanted to.

God knows he didn’t want to.

 _‘Anyway, one of the guards brought it to me, and I asked a couple of guys from the labs and engineering to look at it. Seems it’s a programmable neural stimulator. Jim, by changing the parameters on that thing, almost any neural pathway can be activated! Apparently it’s about the frequencies or something.’_  McCoy sounded excited; a feeling which Jim was beginning to share, although for entirely different reasons. He was lying on his back on Spock’s bunk, watching the handsome Vulcan stand in front of him, clearly pleased that he had the captain exactly where wanted. Spock looked Jim’s body up and down, and grunted in satisfaction. He smiled at Jim’s reaction as he shook away his topmost robes.   _Do you want to see more?,_  his eyes seemed to ask.

‘Bones, just what –ungh!’ Spock placed a knee on the side of the bed, and still staring intently at Jim, he crawled forward, until he was entirely on top of Jim. Slowly and teasingly Spock lowered himself, so that his thighs and pelvis was touching Jim’s. He moved very, very gently, pleased at how Jim’s breathing quickened. His every moment sent hot waves down Jim’s spine. Spock swayed his body on top of Jim’s, rubbing Kirk’s lower body with his own. Their clothing rustled quietly as their bodies touched.

The Vulcan smiled contentedly. He controlled Jim. To reward his obedient pet, Spock leaned towards Jim, carefully balancing his weight, and placed a warm, gentle kiss on the side of Jim’s sensitive neck.  His agile tongue soon followed, and traced the curve of Kirk’s ear. The pleasure made Jim gasp audibly, and the slight bulge in his trousers grew stronger.

‘ _Jim?_ ’

‘Mmmhh…  Sorry Bones.  What was all that you were saying?’

Spock raised his head, and looked Jim deep in the eyes. Soundlessly his lips mouthed the words: ‘ _Don’t resist._ ’ Jim was too aroused to even think of it. He needed Spock. He wanted Spock.  _Now._

Spock rose until he was sitting in his knees. His weight pressed down on Jim’s erection, causing Kirk to squirm in attempt to rub himself against the Vulcan. Spock’s tied hands touched Jim’s abdomen, and started to push Jim’s gold-colored shirt upwards. His fingers caressed the revealing, naked skin. Spock licked his lips as he exposed Jim’s belly and his trained pectorals. He drew breath as he saw Jim’s round nipples, hardened from pleasure, begging to be touched. 

Spock kept on caressing Kirk. His hands traveled over the captain’s body, stroking his sides and chest.  He reached down and kissed Jim’s chest. Where the Vulcan’s fingers had been, his lips and tongue soon followed, writing wet symbols of lust on the captain’s bare skin. Jim moaned, and was rewarded with kisses and gentle bites.  Off and on Spock would gently blow on the wet skin, causing Jim to shiver from cold.

McCoy’s voice on the communicator explained about brainwaves and neural cell signaling.

 ‘ _The collar is really quite sophisticated, but still it can only affect basic emotions. It doesn’t seem to affect higher cognitive processes, though_.’

‘So you can use it to make someone … what, jealous? Angry?’ Jim volunteered.  His skin was on goosebumps. Hot and cold waves danced in Kirk’s body as Spock’s tongue touched him, played on his nipples, mapping out his most sensitive zones. Kirk wanted Spock. He needed Spock, he wanted to hear him moan, wanted to see the Vulcan shiver with passion… but could barely think coherently through the desire, much less act. Kirk’s one free hand was caressing the man on top of him, enjoying how Spock responded to his touch with expressions only Jim would recognize as pleasure. He only touched, while he actually wanted to Spock’s clothes off like thin strips of paper.

Again that commanding look from Spock. Another voiceless whisper: ‘ _Relax. Don’t resist._ ’

Jim wanted to nod, but thought it better to make his opinion clear. He grabbed Spock by the front of his shirt almost frantically, pulled the Vulcan closer and kissed his parted lips hungrily. Their tongues almost danced together, and Jim found Spock’s taste to be a true aphrodisiac. That kiss had one message:  _Take me._

‘ _Not exactly. Those require higher thought processes. But it can cause aggression… or passion, lust._ ’  McCoy’s voice seemed to come from another dimension entirely.  Jim recognized the words, but had difficulty understanding their meaning. His mind and his body were filled with anticipation and lust for Spock, the beautiful, aristocratic Spock, who was again pressing his body down on Jim’s groin. The amount of pleasure was driving Jim crazy.  _Please, Spock, release me!_

Spock ended the kiss. With care he raised his palms once more, and placed his fingers on specific places on Jim’s face. Jim was sweating, panting and trying to raise his head to kiss Spock again. Spock placed his fingers on the mind-meld points, and forcefully pressed Jim’s head back down on the bed, nailing Jim in place.

Jim tried to speak.  ‘Bones, wait a minute. You’re saying… uhh…  that thing can cause … arousal?’

Again Bones chuckled. ‘ _You got it, Jim. Although there is still something we need to study further._ ’

‘My mind to your mind’, Spock whispered. He was so close that Jim could feel his breath on his skin, and the warmth of the whispered words.  ‘We are one’.

Jim’s mind was suddenly filled with memories of yesterday. He saw himself through Spock’s eyes, felt the collar choking him, and the handcuffs pressing to his wrists. Through the mind meld Jim had become Spock. As the memory-Kirk gently tugged his hair and touched his face, Jim felt Spock’s uncertainty, which soon changed to pleasure and anticipation.  _He enjoyed it,_ Jim realized.  _He enjoyed being subdued._

 ‘Uhh… what’s –ngh!- what’s that, then?’ Jim panted. He was lost in time. He enjoyed the weight and warmth of Spock on top of him now, and felt the lust and yearning of the previous day. Carefully Spock let more of his memories drift into Jim’s mind. What he could not speak of, he could show.

‘We are one,’ he whispered again, nuzzling the gentle curve between Jim’s neck and shoulder.

Spock’s feelings mingled with Jim’s own. As Spock, he felt his every muscle craving for memory-Kirk. Spock’s yearning was deep and oppressive as the oceans. The small waves of lust that the memory-Kirk dared wake up in him were single snowflakes where a blizzard was wanted. He felt his own passion for Spock mingle with the pleasure he had caused in the Vulcan. The mind-meld was simply overpowering. The combined emotions were so strong they filled Jim entirely, and rippled out as a long, almost desperate moan. Spock kissed his lips to quiet him down, and then sank his teeth to Kirk’s neck and pressed his nails deep into the captain’s skin.  

Kirk’s mind and body were engulfed in wave after wave of brute sexual desire. His mind was full of fireworks. Jim tossed the communicator farther on the bed and grabbed Spock harshly, hanging on to him and gasping for breath. His erection was already hurting, but the pain only felt sweet.

Suddenly the communicator cracked to life again. ‘ _We don’t know how it affects the user. It might have some short or long-term implications on a basic level of behavior. Jim, really, are you alright?_ ’

Carefully Spock removed his hands from the meld points and broke their connection.  The memories barely dimmed in Kirk’s mind. The present moment was even stronger to him now. Kirk was trashing, trying to tear away Spock’s shirt and clawing his back. He tugged Spock’s hair savagely, pulling the man’s head back and revealing his noble neck to be kissed.  Jim wrapped his legs around Spock, as if trying to remove every atom of air separating them.  _Please, Spock! Release me!_

 ‘Bones, I’m… in the gym. Listen, something came up, I –uhh!- need to go. Kirk out,’ he mumbled to the general direction of the communicator, and groping around that area managed to turn the wretched thing off.  Spock smirked at the little white lie, possibly wondering what need there was to hide the truth. If he wanted, he could make Jim shout the truth to all the world. He controlled his little pet, his little captain.

‘Spock, you … why didn’t you ever… you didn’t tell me…  God, Spock, you’re amazing’, Kirk muttered. He kissed the Vulcan’s face and neck in between words.  Jim could not wait any longer. He stretched his hands down and quickly untied his own trousers. The pain and pressure was relieved slightly as his throbbing cock was no longer bound by inflexible fabric.

Spock didn’t respond to the words. He replied only to the kisses, and occasionally bit Jim’s neck playfully. He too was breathing hard, and Jim could almost feel his fluttering heartbeat through their shirts.  

‘Jim… please…’ Spock managed. Jim understood, and neatly managed to open Spock’s zipper. By moving together they managed to push the trousers away from between them. Mumbling incoherently and half-mad from lust Kirk managed to undress their underwear too. Spock used his agile feet to kick the useless pieces of clothing on the floor. Holding Spock still in his grasp and again wrapping his feet around Spock, Jim started to brush himself against the Vulcan. He could feel Spock’s long, hard erection pressing against his own. The tender skin of his cock was caressed by the cool, pale skin of Spock’s. Spock closed his eyes and moved in unison with Jim, rocking his body gently on top of the captain. The dark curly hairs of the Vulcan scraped Jim’s thighs and groin like tiny nails, making him moan from the pleasurable pain.

‘Spock… I can’t… much longer…’

Jim’s back was arching, and he bent his head back, making his golden hair glisten in the light. His face was gleaming, and the light drew soft shadows on his heaving chest.  Spock could not speak.  He moved faster, rougher, pressing himself against Jim, rubbing his pelvis against his captain. Small wet droplets of seed leaked out, and were soon spread on their skins and bed sheets. Spock growled.

‘Spock…’

Jim’s pulse was thundering in his ears. The world was slipping away, drowning in primordial need for sex. Spock was panting even faster than Jim. They held each other like twigs in a storm, entwined, moving as one in their private hurricane.

There was a long, loud road as the two men reached their climax at the exactly same time. Jim’s entire body convulsed, and he felt Spock grow tense on top of him. The Vulcan threw his head back, and his back arched.  Jim could not suppress a series of groans, which Spock tried to muffle by gently biting Kirk’s lips. Jim could feel his seed spill on his stomach, mixed with Spock’s.

Spock crashed down on top of Jim, unable to find the strength to support himself anymore. With effort Jim managed to raise his nearly limp arms. Tenderly he fondled Spock’s shoulders and back, and stroked his silky hair. Jim found himself quietly whispering soothing words to the Vulcan, who was still shaking. Spock could not speak.

What had been passion and need was slowly turning into languor. What had been lust was now devotion. Little by little Spock relaxed. He leaned his head on Jim’s chest, taking comfort in the steady heartbeat of the human.

After a long time Kirk found the strength to carefully lift and turn the Vulcan to lie on the bed beside him. He rummaged the pockets of his trousers, produced a small key, and unlocked Spock’s handcuffs. He then massaged Spock’s wrists tenderly, and kissed the green-hued depressions caused by the cuffs. Spock lay still but fully awake.

Together they took a shower, and washed each other softly and with care. All Jim’s tensions, fears and uncertainty had been washed away. He felt warm and whole.  They sat side by side for a moment, and Spock saw Jim’s head was starting to droop. Soon he heard a peaceful snuffle: Jim had fell asleep. Without much effort Spock picked the human up, carried him to the bed and carefully tucked the sleeping Jim up.

‘Good night,’ Spock whispered. ‘Good night, my captain.’

 


	4. Chapter 4

The third figurative day of Spock’s imprisonment figuratively dawned. (In a crowded vessel drifting in the vastness of space a lot of things are figurative.) Kirk woke up after a night of pleasant, highly illogical dreams. Blinking and groping his ruffled hair the captain realized where he was.  Had Spock carried him back to the captain’s quarters? _Well, it certainly wasn’t the first time I woke up in a different place I fell asleep in… or when my bed held one less person in the morning than in the night_ , he thought to himself and grinned.

Kirk shaved, and noticed a few red teeth marks on his right ear. His boyish grin returned, and he brushed a few strands of sand-colored hair to cover the mark. It was enough that one of them had slightly abnormal ears. Good thing Spock hadn’t bitten a chuck off – otherwise Jim too might pass for a Vulcan! _Don’t you wish you had a bit of a Vulcan in you,_ his libido whispered. Kirk had to hope his sense was strong enough to take back his brain. Otherwise this would be a long, complicated day indeed.

On the bridge the night shift gave their report, morning shift personnel poured in, checklists were gone through, and yeoman Rand arrived with a hot cup of coffee. He should contact the scientists to agree on the exact pick-up schedule,  confirm adequate storage facilities for the medications, talk to McCoy about something and possibly do some ten million other things. He hadn’t even realized before how much of his responsibility he shared with Mr. Spock. When Spock was away, the bridge was somehow duller. The red railings weren’t quite so red, the warning lights not so bright and the view of the space outside not so stunning.   _The ship needs Spock. The ship, not me. Not James T. Kirk._

After what seemed a year or two Kirk managed to steal some time to away from the bridge. He scurried to meet McCoy, who had had some interesting news about Spock’s prison collar. Jim found McCoy by the workstation in the sickbay, turning the collar lazily in his hands. When Kirk entered the doctor pursed his lips as if holding back a smile.

‘Had a good workout yesterday, Jim?’

For a moment Jim looked puzzled. Then he remembered how he had explained his groans and moans, which Bones had obviously heard through the communicator. McCoy gave a little laugh and let the embarrassed captain off the hook. He raised the collar.

‘Here, try this on. The size is adjustable,’ McCoy explained while he got up and attached the collar to Kirk’s wrist. ‘It’s set on very low power, but you should be able to feel something. Just say when you’re ready.’ McCoy was holding the little remote in his hands. Kirk looked at the collar, now a bracelet, dubiously and then nodded at Bones.

‘Go ahead. Let’s see what this – _for fuck’s sake! McCoy, you daft old ass, haven’t you got anything better to do than play around with alien toys?_ ’ Jim shouted, his face a grimace, and bashed his fist on McCoy’s desk. The doctor didn’t even flinch. He merely removed his finger from a button on the remote.

‘Ah. I see,’ Jim muttered after a while, and rubbed the metal ring on his wrist. ‘Very effective. ‘

‘It seems so,’ McCoy began and launched into a long and rambling explanation about the mechanics of the collar. His sermon had terms like action potential, bioelectricity and neurotransmitter.  For once Jim was actually glad of the interruption, when the intercom whistled and hailed for him.

‘Jim, the collar!’ cried McCoy to Kirk’s retreating back, but got no answer. He snorted and turned back to his work. ‘Guess I’ll just pick it up later from Mr. Spock’s cabin, shall I?’

***

As figuratively as the day had dawned it also turned to night, or at least to a late afternoon. Kirk was tired. It was the last night of Spock’s imprisonment, and Jim felt he should say something to Spock, to do _something_. But the day had been long, the tasks tiresome, his previous night had been short. When a yeoman entered his rooms at nine to bring a light snack, she found the captain fully clothed, laying on his bed, in deep sleep.

At the same time, in another cabin not too far away, a Vulcan was also lying on a bed very similar to Kirk’s. Anyone familiar with his facial expressions would have easily seen that he, too, was smiling.

***

Three days had passed since the Enterprise had left that wretched space station with its uptight anti-alien regulations. Before the first shift began, Kirk got up and hurried to see his science officer. Spock seemed mildly surprised, but responded cordially when Kirk reached towards him to shake his hand to welcome him back to duty.  Kirk gave him his brightest smile, and let the light in the cabin make his eyes sparkle just so. He even softened his voice to achieve the full impact of his charisma.

To Jim’s surprise, it worked. He accompanied Mr. Spock as far as the turbolift before the Vulcan noticed anything. Jim couldn’t suppress a soft, mischievous laughter when Spock stared at the familiar collar, now attached to his slim wrist.

‘Don’t worry, Mr. Spock, it’s not set to induce pain,’ Jim chuckled. Spock raised his sloping eyebrows, and only swallowed noticeably when Kirk used the remote safely tucked into his pocket.

‘Captain, while the idea of using the collar to induce feelings of sexual excitation is interesting, I must point out that the responses of the body, even a Vulcan one, negatively impact a person’s ability to act logically.’

‘Oh, come now, have you no sense of humor?’

‘No, captain.’ Spock fidgeted with the collar-turned-bracelet, but soon realized only Kirk could open it. He gave up that which was clearly a waste of time.

‘Need for a little excitement, then? ‘

‘I’m afraid not.’

But Jim was not going to be beaten this easily. Seducing and outright manipulating people was his specialty, and he could do it in Vulcan-style as well. After a short silence Jim stared deep into Spock’s eyes.

‘Mr. Spock. Do you enjoy the feeling of pleasure I cause to you by this device?’

‘Pleasure is a relative term, Jim, as is enjoyment.  They are also human emotions, of which I –‘

‘Enough of that, Spock. Do – you – enjoy – the – feeling – the – device – gives – you?’

For a moment Spock was quiet. He worshipped logic like some worship a god (although worship is by no means logical), but truth was even more important in his philosophy. Spock lowered his head.

‘Yes, Jim.’

‘Good. Now: do you want me to take it off?’ To emphasize his question, Jim activated the bracelet again, and heard Spock draw a quick breath.  Even logic could not fight the demands of physique. And so, as the turbolift doors opened, Spock glanced at Jim almost fearfully, pulled his shirt sleeve lower to cover the device and shook his head. Jim smiled reassuringly. Together, side by side, they stepped on the bridge.   

‘Welcome back, Mr. Spock! Glad to see the Captain has let you out of your cage,’ Mr. Sulu said with a smile and gladly welcomed the Vulcan back on the bridge. But Mr. Spock stayed as practical as ever. Within the hour he had identified several possibilities for taking samples before their rendezvous with the science vessel. According to the principles of rewarding his employees, Jim reached a hand to his pocket and activated the bracelet.

‘Captain!’

‘Yes, Mr. Spock?’ Jim asked innocently.

‘I… May I proceed with instructing the lab teams about the sampling?’

‘Yes, Mr. Spock. Go ahead.’ And all the while his officer was gone,  Jim kept fiddling with the remote. _I wonder how_   _far the signal carries,_ he thought to himself. By the slightly ruffled looks of Spock when he returned Jim deduced the signal did in fact carry quite a distance. 

‘Do the plans _please_ you, Mr. Spock? After all I know you _burning_ _passion_ for science,’ Jim asked nonchalantly, carefully looking away from Spock.

‘The plans for sampling are adequate, Jim,’ came the response from the science station. A low grunt soon followed. Kirk bit his lip in an effort to hide his grin. He intended to ensure the Vulcan found his duties especially enjoyable today. The only drawback in his plan was that his own body seemed to respond to the idea of Spock being thus pleased, publicly yet entirely in secret. Carefully Kirk adjusted his position on his seat, and tugged the hem of his shirt lower.

‘So what do you intend to do, once you have to those _tempting_ items … so readily at your disposal?’ Jim’s mind was starting to conjure up rather interesting images about the calculating Mr. Spock being at his own disposal. He remembered vividly what Spock had looked like in the small holding cell at the space station several days ago. How proudly he had stood there, collared and chained, but not resigned. How obedient Spock had been later on the Enterprise; how Kirk had admired his gorgeous body, pushed the handcuffed Vulcan on the floor and crawled on top of him...

Without realizing it, Jim was licking his lips.

‘I believe the lab technicians will run all the basic tests. The ship’s computer has all the details if you wish to review them.’

A quick touch of a button.

‘… Captain’, came the missing honorific. Jim chuckled. It sounded good, the way Spock said it.

‘We will pass a quasar tomorrow. It’ll be interesting to see something usually so distant so close, and experience its energy and strength first-hand,’ mused Kirk out loud. ‘I wonder if anything can penetrate the quasar’s black hole?’  Kirk couldn’t help it. He felt like a schoolboy telling a dirty joke he didn’t entirely understand, but he couldn’t help it.

‘It could swallow you whole, Jim,’ replied the Vulcan in a throaty voice, and turned to face the captain. Something glinted in his hand, something metallic. Spock’s face was passive, but Kirk could almost hear his rapid heartbeat and see a certain twinkle in Spock’s eye. ‘First, the tidal forces would pick you up and toss you around like a speck of dust.’

Spock stepped even closer. He opened his palm, and laid the opened bracelet on the armrest of the captain’s seat. Jim’s eyes went wide.

‘Then the pure strength of the quasar would engulf you, and throw you at the mercy of the powerful suction. Would you like that… Captain?’ growled the panther that was Spock.  

 ‘…’, began the captain, then coughed. The innuendos in Spock’s little speech had not escaped him. “ _The strength would engulf you”_ … he gulped. Jim tried replying again, his voice but a hoarse whisper:

‘… Yes.’

 _I took this too far with the damn collar_ , he thought.Spock stared at Jim, eyes like smoldering coals: willing but hesitant, as if looking for confirmation. A confirmation so solid his logic could accept it, something to kindle the embers to an inferno. Kirk felt like he was standing on an edge. What he said or did now would have serious consequences. This was no longer just naughty wordplay, hidden in a seemingly scientific inquiry.

Every member of the bridge was ostensibly at work. Jim still feared they had an audience. He hoped they thought this as just a small confrontation; a debate between his own humane ambition to explore the world and Spock’s realism. But he knew this was about more than that. Much more. The worst of it was that he had to handle this now and here.  Not the way he had planned. His plans had included dim lights, red wine, soft music and privacy… and he now had bright lights, cold coffee and the entire bridge crew.   _Do not mess this up. Do not let him down now. Do not **dare** let him down!_

With an effort Jim relaxed his posture. He took a long breath. Finally he answered in a soft, steady, determined voice:  

‘Mr. Spock, there are things worth one’s _katra_.’ Intentionally Jim used the Vulcan word for the essence of a Vulcan mind, the living spirit, which the humans would call a soul. ‘Knowledge, for one,’ he continued.

Jim looked deep into the brown Vulcan eyes, and without as much as a whisper mouthed the words:

‘ _And you._ ’


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** This chapter really is not according to the canon, but hopefully other things compensate for it... :P~ **

‘Sir, the estimated time before contact with _USS Messier_ is four hours’, Mr. Sulu announced after reviewing the flight plans. ‘We’re approaching her steadily at warp 5.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Sulu. Yeoman, have the accommodations been prepared for the scientists?’

A beautiful blonde human woman nodded, and picked up the cold cup of coffee from the armrest of the captain’s seat. She handed her PADD over to Kirk, who skimmed through the list of scientists they’d be picking up and the demands they had made about accommodations and laboratory spaces. Kirk grunted.

‘Mr. Spock, please go through the list and ensure the labs are adequately fitted. It seems our passengers are onto something, and need to continue their research en route to Starbase 54.’ Spock acknowledged and left the bridge. Kirk felt the tiniest of twinges in his chest: he did not like sending Spock away, not even for a moment. He craved for some private time with his first officer. Kirk was sexually satisfied ( _for once!_ he thought to himself), but some time in private, time to just be… now that would be appreciated.

‘Any idea what type of people will be taking aboard, Jim?’ McCoy asked from his usual place, lurking behind the captain’s seat like a perching bird. Kirk heard what he said, but understood what he meant. He replied with a smile: ‘I believe there are one or two younger scientists in the bunch, Bones. Biologists, but maybe you could show them around the sickbay and see if they are of any use to you.’

McCoy pursed his lips and seemed to be looking at something only he could see. ‘Biology is the basis for medicine, Jim. But I haven’t done active research in a long time. Maybe they could teach an old dog like me some new tricks, hmm?’

Jim chuckled. He had no doubts what kind of tricks good old Bones wanted to learn from young and smart female scientists. Out of curiosity he himself had been through the personnel files of all the scientists they would pick up, and was certain Bones would not be the only one who would suddenly need private lessons in biology. In fact, he was almost sure Scotty would soon ask for a sick leave, and had already allocated extra crew to engineering. After all, one is promoted to Captain if they’re smart enough, but they stay a captain only if they know their crew like their ship: better than the backs of their own hands.

As Spock returned, it turned out there were some refitting required at the labs. Ship’s computer had to be programmed to accept commands from the passengers, and several other last-minute preparations were made. It seemed to Kirk that the last things were done only a minute after the Enterprise had locked on to _USS Messier_. He took Spock and a few lab techs with him to the transporter room to greet the newcomers.

‘We’re locked on to the first members of the group, sir’ Scotty announced as Kirk reached the transporter room. ‘We’ll bring ‘em up in two runs.’

‘Energize.’

The familiar pinging, squealing and beaming of the transporter brought in ten scientists. Kirk greeted each one personally, introduced them to Mr. Spock and sent them off to a tour of the ship with the lab techs. As he was about to leave, he heard Scotty’s wondering voice from the controls: ‘Sir… we seem to have one more to be beamed up. The list mentioned only ten, but… what will we do, Sir?’

‘Captain, according to my latest inquiry there should be a few spare rooms available,’ Spock said. ‘They can be refitted should be passenger be incompatible with the currently present Terran environment.’

‘Go ahead, Mr. Scotty.’

The loud howl of the transporter rose in pitch, and soon a dark shadow began to emerge. As the transporter quieted down, Kirk found himself staring at the back of a human male, dressed in common black and champagne-colored clothes. The figure turned around and greeted Kirk with a boyish grin.

‘Chris? Well well, it is captain Christopher Pike himself!’ Kirk exclaimed happily and gave the fellow captain a warm bear-hug. ‘Welcome back on board the Enterprise. The Admiral told me you had participated in some experimental biotech treatment after the delta-radiation accident, but… just look at you! The ladies will be thrilled,’ Jim chattered. Pike shared his excitement, and the two captains immediately headed for a tour of the Enterprise, which Pike had commanded some years ago.

No one noticed the lonesome figure of Spock, who was rooted in his place in the transporter room, standing still like a statue, the very image of someone who has just seen a ghost.

***

That evening there was a banquet to welcome all the new passengers, and to celebrate the return of captain Pike on board the Enterprise. Most of the crew were present, some especially to hear Uhura playing and singing, as she often did in events like this. Kirk drew Pike aside while Uhura’s melodious voice still sang about the places beyond Antares, and led him to the captain’s quarters.

‘I believe … ’ started Jim, while rummaging through the various storage spaces in his quarters, ‘… that I have something just …’ Decorations, awards and data disks were sloppily thrown on the floor’, … just for the occasion!’ Victoriously Jim pulled an unopened bottle of excellent Terran whisky from one of his secret stashes. Chris had meanwhile settled down on a comfortable couch. Kirk found two stylish whisky glasses and poured generously for them both.

Pike smelled the amber liquid in his glass, sighed and looked at the Jim dubiously. ‘I’m not in duty so I won’t say no, but Jim…?’

Kirk brought his glass to his lips, closed his eyes, sipped and exhaled deeply.

‘You should have a talk with McCoy, Chris. He’s a genius when it comes to enjoying the little good things in life without letting them affect one’s duties.’ His voice was relaxed, and he was obviously enjoying the warm sensations of the high-quality cask-strength Scottish.

Chris laughed. ‘So Mr. McCoy has found a cure for hangovers, then. I salute his discipline; no doubt he tested the cure on himself on one or two occasions.’

Jim found no reason to be upset with this comment. McCoy liked his drink, that was no secret, but his habit had never, ever interfered with his duties. McCoy was the moral backbone of the entire Enterprise. Despite his humane tendencies he was known to stand up to Mr. Spock – and win. Not a feat to be taken lightly.

Chris picked up his glass and emptied it in one go. ‘Whoa, that IS good stuff!’ he exclaimed, and readily filled both glasses again. Jim smiled approvingly.

The room filled with laughter as the two captains – two friends – enjoyed the whisky and stories of the past and present. The bottle of whisky was already half-empty when someone called Kirk from the corridor. Jim gave them the permission to enter.

‘Ah, Mr. Spock! Glad you could make it. We we’re just reminiscing about old times. Have a seat’, Jim chattered in a slightly drunken tone. Spock had to admit it was quite a feat how Jim managed to use the word “reminisce” after consuming a decent amount of that smoky-scented fermented barley the humans valued so much. He had once asked Scotty about it, who promised to launch Spock out of an airlock the next time he referred to Scottish whisky as “excrements of yeast in a solution of putrid grain”.

Spock stood still in front of the door. The room was brightly lit, and his eyes took a while to get accustomed to the light. He could smell the alcohol, but made no remarks about the condition of the captains. His face was absolutely expressionless.

‘I was not aware you had visitors, captain. I shall return on a later time.’

‘No no, Mr. Spock, sit down with us. I’d offer you a glass but you wouldn’t take it, what with the Vulcan teachings and all,’ said Christopher Pike, looking at his old officer with a smile. ‘I’m happy to see you, Spock.’

Reluctantly Spock stepped closer, but remained standing. His lips had parted slightly, and his face was even paler than usual. Kirk thought he saw a greenish hue to the Vulcan’s lips. Spock did not look good.

‘Spock, what is it?’ Jim asked, without a hint of a drunken slur in his voice. Endless days at the Academy and long nights at the bars had taught him amazing control over the effects of alcohol on his body. Opposite to Jim, Chris no longer smiled. He was staring at Spock, who took a long time before dared to look back. Jim watched the two with interest… and a hint of jealousy.

‘Have you…’ Chris began, directing his half of a question to Spock. Again, Spock pressed his head and seemed to shrink in size. The Vulcan shook his head. He was about to say something, but quickly pressed his lips tightly together again.

Chris placed his glass on a table and stood up. Spock didn’t dodge as Chris stepped right in front of him, and gently lifted the Vulcan’s chin up with a touch of his hand. Spock remained still, but Jim saw a storm of emotions behind his dark eyes. The hairs on Jim’s neck stood on end as he witnessed the meeting of his old friend and his current… his current what? What was Spock to him, truly? And why did he allow Chris to touch him, when Vulcans would normally never do that? Why was he himself allowed to touch Spock, or was the man just too professional to point out Kirk’s obvious misconduct?

Softly, lovingly captain Christopher Pike kissed Spock’s forehead. The Vulcan flinched, but didn’t resist as the next kiss touched his trembling lips. Spock’s eyes were closed, and his fingers were twitching, as if unsure whether to touch Chris or not.

Kirk felt his jaw drop, and heard his glass fall to the floor with a crash. He sprung up from his seat.

Neither Chris nor Spock noticed him at all. Chris was gently stroking Spock’s cheek and whispering to him calmly. Spock seemed enchanted. His eyes were fixed on Chris’s. He was tense all the way to the tips of his ears, which were shaking slightly. Spock seemed to lean onto the hand touching him. Slowly Spock lifted his hand to touch Chris… but then he hesitated, his shaky palm mere inches away from his former captain. And then, after a one last longing look into the icy blue eyes of Chris, Spock stepped away from him.

Chris let his hands fall to his sides. He heaved a sigh, then turned to look at the stunned Kirk.

‘I see,’ Chris said finally in a weak, resigned voice. But Kirk did not see. He saw nothing, and he understood even less. He took a step closer to Chris, didn’t even hear the broken shards of glass crushing into fine powder beneath his foot. Anger had replaced the alcohol in his blood stream. His heart was thundering in his chest, and his face was burning.

‘Captain…’ Spock tried weakly.

‘What?’ replied both Chris and Jim, simultaneously.

Chris was older than Jim, but managed to sidestep away from the younger captain, who had launched himself against his old mentor. Jim attacked blindly, punching at the air where Chris had stood a moment ago, and evading blows that didn’t come. In a silent rage his blazing eyes sought out the surprised form of Chris, and like a hunting lion he charged. Chris took a heavy blow on his shoulder, but managed to direct aside another punch, which would’ve broken his nose. Jim had no tactics in this fight, and no defense: he attacked again and again, kicking, punching, flailing wildly at Chris, who only barely managed to evade the strongest hits.

Spock remained still, lost in the sudden surge of emotions and struggling to suppress them.

Jim didn’t even notice bumping into Spock as he again charged after Chris, who was already panting heavily. Active duty and the constant bickering of McCoy had ensured that Jim was in to physical condition. With a blatant disregard of any official combat tactics he pummeled and fought on, until Chris stumbled and slumped on the floor on his back. Jim leaped on top of him and grabbed the front of the captain’s shirt.

And there he sat, face distorted with rage, his prey panting below him, conquered. No words came to Jim. What was he to say? _You do not own Spock_ , his mind whispered. _You cannot demand back what is not yours._ His touch on Chris’s shirt did not weaken. Chris kept still, panting and sweating, but as silent as Jim.

_He has not claimed you._ Jim’s sense had a voice like icy-cold water. _Spock has not bonded … not with you._

The words of Chris flashed to his mind. He remembered how, just minutes ago, Chris had asked Spock whether he had... _whether he had what_? Bonded Kirk?He remembered how Spock had shaken his head as an answer. His eyes went wide with wonder. Had Spock bonded Chris? Had he… _had he made love to Chris?_

Suddenly all strength dissolved from his muscles. Jim rolled away from top of Chris, and remained seated on the floor. Slowly Chris stood up. Spock had regained his senses, and was the first to speak.

‘No, Jim. It didn’t happen.’

Chris helped Jim stood up too. Their clothes were tattered, their faces bruised. Spock gave them both a cold, hard stare.

‘Why didn’t you stop us, Spock?’ Jim panted.

‘Could it be that you were, for a fleeting moment, emotionally upset?’ Jim continued, while helping Chris to sweep away dust from their disheveled clothes.

‘I’ve been spending long enough with the xenobiologists to see the fault in your reasoning, Jim. You’re anthropomorphizing; attributing human traits to a non-human being,’ Chris explained with an air of comic arrogance. Kirk heard kindly laughter in those words. He, too, was beginning to feel stupid, and had to stifle a chuckle. Spock cocked his head.

 ‘It is customary for alpha males, such as you gentlemen, to occasionally participate in a fight when their territories overlap. While noisy and seemingly brutal, these fights are hardly ever lethal. I followed the logical course of action to let you settle the dispute without interference. I reason you have now established a stable state of affairs.’ he finally said. Spock’s controlled voice betrayed his view on the stability of the captains, and he observed their reactions with scientific curiosity.

Both captains were now looking at the Vulcan, seemingly amused about his interpretation of their casual scuffle. For human males it is quite customary to wrestle a bit after drinking, and they had never thought an outsider (for that’s what Spock had made himself) would think much of it.

‘The fights are common also during mating season, when-‘

But at this point Spock’s explanation was drowned in a roar of laughter. Chris and Jim were bent over from merriment and guffawing loudly. They leaned on one another like best buddies, and laughed still when Spock, his Vulcan eyebrows raised, stepped away from the cabin. _Someone_ had duties to attend to.

***

According to Mr. Sulu’s calculations the USS Enterprise would spend roughly three weeks in warp drive before slowing down to approach Starbase 54. But Jim could now add the experience of Christopher Pike to his own, and together they estimated the trip to take four weeks or more, considering the scientific excursions they could and should make on the way.

This gave the crew several weeks of relatively free time – not including the lab personnel, of course, who were running about like ants day and night. On one occasion two laboratory sections were sealed and on lockdown for several hours, when a junior tech had accidentally released a strain of microbes. The sections smelled of disinfectants for days afterwards. On another, half of the lab personnel had to be rushed to the sickbay after inhaling noxious gases. It took an hour to convince McCoy that he, too, was needed on the clinic, but that he could bring along his “new assistant”. The lab techs had thrown up most of the way to the sickbay, and again, the smell of disinfectants filled the corridors. After an especially difficult week the lab techs arranged a small party open for everyone… and the only attendants were other lab techs and a few suicidal scientists. The rest of the crew pretended not to have seen the invitation at all.

Meanwhile the terms between the two captains and Spock had settled somewhat. To get their minds off the business, Chris took pains to create a special tour program for the recently upgraded holodeck. Jim and Spock arrived on the agreed time. Chris smiled wickedly and activated the computer program.

The white walls were instantly replaced with dark stone. The relative warmth of the holodeck changed to a damp chill, and Jim could certainly feel a draft. Mist was rising: not the dangerous smog of the Earth, but a true British pea souper. Next to Jim stood Chris, dressed in knee-length dark coat, golden vest and white shirt with a high, starched collar. His black trousers were already gathering moisture from the mist, and his lacquered shoes were shining. Jim grinned appreciatively, and checked his own garment. His coat was lighter than Chris’s, his vest royal blue with silvery buttons, and a golden chain of a pocket watch dangled on his tummy. As he glanced at the third man, his breath nearly stopped.

Spock, being tall and thin, was made for the Victorian era. He stood partly in a shadow, dressed in an open black field marshall’s coat with high black collar and buckles in the front. Underneath he had a blood-colored shirt with ruffles on the front. He was leaning leisurely on a black shiny walking cane.

‘Gentlemen,’ said Spock and politely doffed his matte black top hat.

What Jim said next was not appropriate for children. Chris pretended not to notice, and lead their little team away from the fog to an old brick building and inside a cozy apartment. There was a fireplace spreading comfortable warmth, and a small table laden with an assortment of cheeses, wines and other light snacks. Spock, who had had to mentally keep his temperature in check in the cold weather, immediately sat down before the fire to warm himself up. Jim kneeled next to him, and offered to assist with the delicate buckles of the long coat.

‘Jim, leave him be. We need to talk,’ said Chris then. He was sipping wine from a silvery goblet, and was nibbling on a bit of cheese.

Reluctantly Jim left Spock. ‘What is it, Chris?’ he asked softly, afraid that Chris had less than good news.

‘I’ve known Mr. Spock for a while, Jim. I admit, he has not accepted me as his … as his, but I still know him. And Jim, you’re hurting him. I can’t accept that.’

Jim’s eyes went wide with amazement, and he stared at Chris. Spock was sitting a few meters away, tense and alert, but still.

‘What?’ Jim’s question was more a hiss than a whisper.

Chris sat down on a dark brown leather couch with the goblet in his hands.

‘Spock!’ he suddenly commanded in a sharp tone. Jim watched in wonder how Spock sprang up and turned to face Chris. Chris simply tilted his goblet, which Spock immediately filled with sweet-scented wine. To Jim’s further amazement, Chris stroke Spock’s black hair when the Vulcan was bent towards him with the wine bottle.

‘Now, won’t you attend to my friend as well, hmm?’ Chris urged. Spock nodded, and stood a moment in front of Jim before raising his hands to unloose Jim’s collar, which had suddenly become quite tight. Spock’s nifty fingers opened a few buttons of Jim’s shirt, and brushed away a stray of hair which had fallen on Kirk’s forehead.

‘Please, Sir’, whispered Spock, and Jim more tumbled than sat down on the couch, next to Chris. Obviously pleased of this Spock nodded and brought the cheese tray, offering it to Jim. At this, Chris coughed meaningfully and gave Spock a questioning look. Quickly Spock returned the plate, picked up a bit of cheese between his teeth… and bowed towards Jim, offering him the delicacy he was so gently holding in his mouth. Jim felt his stomach knotting as he bent towards Spock and accepted the morsel with his lips, feeling the warmth and moistness of Spock’s breath. But instead of a kiss, Spock leaned back and looked at Jim as if seeking for approval.

‘The Vulcans need to feel needed, Jim. They need a sense of duty as we need air or water. Mr. Spock here, I realized too late, is no different. Oh relax Jim,’ Chris said as Jim was about to bounce up, ‘I did not learn this from him. I wish I had, but … well, I know it now. There was another half-Vulcan, who taught me. ‘

‘A woman?’ was all Jim could mutter. He was staring at Spock, who had kneeled in front of him, awaiting for any commands Jim might have. On their own consent Jim’s fingers brushed Spock’s cheek, and caressed the gently curving earlobe.

‘Yes, Jim, a woman. For the record, and I’m sure Spock would have told you this as well, I never touched him. Not like… not like that.’

Jim saw softness in Spock’s eyes, a gentleness that wasn’t there before. His thumb draw an invisible line on the Vulcan’s lips, and he gasped when Spock accepted the fingertip between his lips, gently touching it with his tongue and kissing Jim’s skin.

Then it dawned on Jim. Vulcans are telepathic by touch. Touching a human would make any full-blooded Vulcan go half insane from the chaotic flow of emotions and thoughts so common for humans. But Spock was half-human. He had the some of the same emotions, and he controlled them like they were but snowflakes in a sphere of glass.

He had barely survived this discovery when another hit him. As Chris had said, Vulcans need to belong, they need to have a mission, a meaning. Their sense of duty is like love to humans. Spock’s duties were with the Starfleet. Jim had forced him to love an organization, a faceless _thing_. What Spock needed, Jim thought now, was to belong to some _one_.

Jim crouched down, grabbed Spock by the ruffles on the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss. The Vulcan crawled up on the couch, and nestled comfortably on Jim’s lap.

‘Goodbye, Jim,’ whispered the now forgotten Chris, and stood up. He had tears in his eyes, only visible in the dancing light of the fire. He watched with sadness how Jim’s fingers curled into Spock’s hair, and how tightly his friend held the Vulcan. He saw Spock bury his face in Jim’s neck, and hear soft whispers, but comfortingly the exact words were lost in the crackle of the fire.

He took his hat from a hat stand, and turned back one last time to look at Spock. Spock’s shirt was half open, and revealed his strong shoulders and elegant, long neck. Jim’s hand was pressing Spock closer, and his lips were planting kisses on the Vulcan’s soft smooth skin.

‘Goodbye, Spock… _my love_ ,’ whispered captain Christopher Pike, wiped a tear from his cheek, and left.

The creaking sound of the closing door was masked under the quiet squeaks of the leather couch and the roar of the fire.

Jim realized Spock’s skin was no longer hot, but only mildly warm under his hand.

‘Spock, you’re cold… come,’ he persuaded, and led the Vulcan by the hand. They settled down in front of the fire, where Jim softly, carefully laid Spock down on the soft carpet. Light and shadows of the fire danced on Spock’s skin, flickering in his eyes and his silky hair. Slowly Jim unbuttoned the rest of Spock’s shirt, and brushed the fabric away to reveal the slim but muscular chest of the Vulcan. Spock’s skin was smooth, and his green-tinted nipples were invitingly hard. Jim bent down and sank his teeth on the gentle nub, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, and enjoying the quiet moan from Spock’s lips. His hands were caressing the Vulcan’s sides. Savouring every moment Jim crawled backwards, kissing and biting Spock’s chest and tummy, until his hands found the clasp of the Vulcan’s trousers. Jim felt Spock grow suddenly very tense. Immediately he looked up to Spock.

‘-‘, Jim tried to ask whether everything was okay, but Spock was quicker. Spock nodded, relaxed and caressed Jim’s hair. The fire gave his hair a golden gloss. Jim felt Spock’s hand push him lower, urging him to continue. Jim opened Spock’s trousers, and again kissing every inch of skin he revealed, pulled the needless clothes off. Spock raised his upper body to admire Jim, who then proceeded to undress himself. Jim’s soft skin, more sensitive and partially covered in light hair was tanned and beautiful, almost coppery. Spock’s eyes were shining.

Fully naked, Jim crouched back down and kissed Spock’s neck, while his fingers journeyed downwards. Gently he tugged on the hairs below Spock’s navel, and teasingly circled on his thighs and abdomen. He was pleasantly surprised when his fingers found the hot, stiff penis of the Vulcan, but he kept his touch gentle. Jim’s fingers curled around the shaft, and he closed his eyes to fully concentrate on how Spock felt. Jim could feel Spock’s quick pulse, and was happy to notice the organ was nearly the same shape as his own. In some very remote area of his mind Jim had been afraid of this moment, but had again been too cautious to ask the ship’s computers for instructions. From here on, it was up to him.

Or actually, up in him. Spock was squirming in pleasure, and Jim could feel his own erection pressing onto the Vulcan. Jim pressed his knee between Spock’s legs, who eagerly spread them to allow Jim some space. Jim let Spock lick his fingers, and was startled to feel the Vulcan suck his fingers strongly, demandingly. With a smile Jim used the saliva on his hand to lubricate his own bulging cock. Leaning on his strong hands for support, Jim reached over to kiss Spock, and gently, softly, carefully pushed himself inside the trembling Vulcan.

The ecstasy was nearly overwhelming. Spock felt tight and incredibly hot around Jim. Only with reluctance Jim was able to pull out, and treat his lover with another thrust, stronger this time. And again.

‘Jim…’ Spock’s voice was thick with lust. ‘Before you come, let me know… I will … the control…’

Jim thought that he understood, and nodded. Spock lifted his knees and started to push against Jim, moving his pelvis in unison with his captain. Jim knew he could not take this for long. The Vulcan was just too damn sexy and desirable, and just so tight and hot… But he controlled himself, he calmed down, looked as Spock and decided to let the Vulcan enjoy as long as he possibly could.

Jim was burning inside. He could feel the waves of pleasure dancing in him, and slowed pace. His thrusts were now sparse, but strong and deep. Spock’s hands grabbed him by his sides, and were pushing Jim even deeper and faster.

‘Spock, you’re too perfect…. I can’t … for much longer,’ Jim panted, and pulled out just in time to stop the game there and then. Spock looked deep into his eyes, reached his hands up and touched the meld-points on Jim’s face. Spock closed his eyes, and so did Jim, as the Vulcan carefully initiated the mind-meld.

‘ _Kashkau -- wuhkuh eh teretuhr -- Estuhn wi ri estuhn -- k'wuhli wi ri k'wuhli_ ’, Spock whispered. Kirk realized he could not only sense Spock in his mind – his mind was like the mist outside, swirling and mixing with the organized mind of the Vulcan, absorbing into Spock’s like the Vulcan mind was seeping into his own. This was not a mind-meld, Jim realized. They were bonding. As the bond strengthened, Jim understood the Vulcan words Spock had been speaking. He repeated them in his own language, barely able to speak: “Our minds, one and together . . . Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart… ”

In perfect unison, the other in Vulcan and the other in English, they whispered the final words: “ _Nam-tor etek wuhkuh_ – we are one.”

And with that, Spock broke the mind-meld, but their connection did not disappear. It stayed, their minds intertwined, their thoughts a blooming flower of lust, passion and belonging. Jim was not Jim; he was them both, and he poured all his love and desire through to Spock. Spock accepted it all as he accepted Jim physically inside him. It was not a wave of pleasure: it was a tsunami, and it threw Jim high up, and crashed him forcefully down on Spock, as his seed gushed inside the Vulcan. Spock was growling, his body tense and blazing with heat. They were one, in mind and in body.

Slowly the roar of the fireplace quieted, and the flames died own. Jim and Spock lay on the carpet, Jim nuzzling Spock’s neck and mumbling incoherently. Spock caressed Jim’s hair softly, lovingly.

‘Jim, we have duties towards others than ourselves,’ he finally said, and sat up, stretching himself like a tiger. ‘I am not the only one who needs you.’

Jim smiled. Spock would never love him, not the way humans did. But he knew Spock’s sense of duty and loyalty towards him, and now the bonding, was more than the fleeting feeling of love ever could be. When Jim ordered the computer to stop the program and produce their uniforms back, he still felt Spock in his mind. He knew where the Vulcan was, and with concentration, could sense what he was doing.

Side by side the captain and his officer left the holodeck and returned to the bridge. Mr. Sulu and Mr. Scott were there to greet them.

There was a distant dot on the main screen, followed by trails that could be heat from engines. Kirk inquired about it.

‘It’s Captain Pike, Sir,’ Scotty replied, somewhat sadly. ‘He left. Said he needed a shuttle, I thought nothing of it and gave him one, and … well, Sir, I don’t think he’ll be coming back, the way he looked.’

A pang of guilt tore through Jim’s chest. Invisible hands, the thoughts of Spock, began immediately to mend his wound. _It was his choice, Jim. He has earned his freedom._

‘What do you want to do, Sir?’ Scott asked.

_Let him go._

‘Keep an eye on the shuttle as long as possible to make sure it comes to no harm. If any further requests are made by Captain Pike, fulfill them. The Enterprise will continue on her current course.’

Jim sat down on his seat, and felt rather than heard Spock take his place at the science station.

‘Steady as she goes.’


	6. Chapter 6

Jim sat on his bed, and twirled the collar in his hands. Spock’s imprisonment was happily over, and the collar was now useless. A joint effort by the engineering and medical techs had determined that the collar could be used to inflict other emotions than just pain on the user, and Kirk’s own little experiment had shown that it is quite capable of causing sexual pleasure. It seemed like a waste, a toy as fun as the collar and no one playing with it.

Kirk swirled the collar around his own wrist, but was careful not to lock the collar. He still didn’t know how Spock had opened it earlier, and was much too proud to ask. Kirk felt rather sure Spock would agree to use the collar, but… but that wasn’t all Kirk had in mind. His mind kept returning to the time he had seen Spock in the cell, locked inside a small circle, with his hands tied and the collar around his neck. The collar had been set to cause pain without leaving scars or any other evidence. Through a mind-meld, Jim had understood Spock enjoyed being chained – or that, at least, it didn’t cause him much discomfort. Or maybe the Vulcan had simply denied Jim from seeing that part of his mind? Could he do that? How much of what Jim could feel through their bond was real, and how much if Spock could hide?

Around and around the collar spun. It was like a snake chasing its own tail, or like a frustrated Starfleet captain running around in mental circles. How was he to treat his precious Vulcan? How to let Spock keep his dignity and distance, yet to achieve a pleasurable relationship with him? And to think that he had considered seducing the Vulcan a difficult task… Jim laughed to himself. He had been naïve. He now had what he had wanted, but no idea what to do with it.

How was he even to use this bloody mental connection they had now? Could he summon Spock to him just by thinking about him, and wouldn’t he then treat him like a servant? Ding-dong goes the bell, come on over little valet!

And then there had been the message from McCoy. “Jim, meet me at the sickbay. I need to run some tests.” What was that supposed to mean? What tests, and why? Well, at least that was a riddle he could solve easily. Jim got up, left the collar on his bed and went over to the sickbay.

‘Ah, Jim! I was expecting you,’ McCoy said almost cheerfully as Jim entered. Nurse Chapel was tending to a patient, so Bones led Jim to a private corner. Jim looked at Bones impatiently.

‘Nothing serious, old friend, nothing serious,’ explained the doctor. ‘It’s just that, well, your social situation has apparently changed recently. I am a professional on space psychology, as you know, so these little things don’t escape my attention. Anyway, I should take some tests from you and Mr. Spock, just in case.’

‘What?’ Jim laughed. ‘Are you serious? We’re in space, Bones! We’ve come quite far from the days of free sex flavored with AIDS, syphilis and whatnot.’ Jim leaned casually on the wall, watching Bones to decide whether he was serious. STDs had been a serious problem for humans, yes, but that was a few hundreds of years ago!

‘Look, Jim, it’s a simple thing. A tissue sample, and a tiny blood sample, and you can go. I wouldn’t be so worried if your partner was a human, or even a full-blooded Vulcan, but he’s not. He’s susceptible to the evils of both worlds, Jim.’

Jim felt a knot in his stomach. He had never thought of it that way. What made Spock strong also made him twice as weak.  He shuffled his feet.

‘I’ll test the samples myself. Your relationship is safe with me,’ Bones assured. Jim finally nodded, and Bones led him to the ward, where Jim was asked to sit on a hospital bed while Bones himself took the samples.

‘Have you asked –‘ Jim began, and Bones nodded.

‘He’ll stop by today. I have the results within 20 hours, I’ll let you both know then.’

‘Don’t get too excited about it, Doc,’ Jim grinned and rolled his sleeve back down, ‘we’re healthy. You won’t find any new space bugs!’

Bones smiled back at the captain, and went to prepare the samples he had just taken. When Jim had left, his smile vanished. Looking intently at the samples, Bones muttered to himself:

‘It’s not the new ones I’m worried about. It’s the old ones that I fear.’

***

After the xenobiologists had come on board from _USS Messier_ Spock had been increasingly busy. The labs were bombarding him with procurement requirements and needs to have more space, more equipment, more personnel, more everything. It was highly useful that Spock needed to sleep only every two weeks or so, otherwise most of his tasks would’ve been left undone. Tirelessly he kept reviewing requirements of purchase, verifying research plans, assisting in technical problems at the laboratories, standing in for scientists and technicians when needed and all the while also handling his tasks as the first officer.

While Spock found his duties agreeable, he did not turn down Kirk’s invitation for a casual evening at his rooms. After they had bonded, Spock had felt calmer: he knew how Kirk was doing, he didn’t need to worry about him anymore. Still he was pleased to see Jim in person, and felt his rigid posture slump down somewhat as he entered the captain’s quarters.

‘Spock,’ whispered Jim after the doors had closed behind the Vulcan. His eyes were pure gold, and his smile was angelic. Jim greeted Spock with an almost shy kiss. Spock wore a genuine smile on his lips.

‘Jim,’ the Vulcan responded softly. His hand reached out to meet Jim’s, and his fingers brushed the captain’s hand in a manner Jim found most suggestive. But Jim still felt anxious. He had been to the sickbay only some hours ago, and assumed Spock had been there, too. Twenty hours before McCoy would have the results. The results would be negative, Jim was almost certain of it, but a mean beast of suspicion was nagging at him.

‘I can assure you, Jim, that my health is at impeccable state,’ said the Vulcan, as if he had read Jim’s thoughts. And maybe he had.

‘Is it?’

‘Indeed. A Vulcan knows his or her body, unlike most humans who only use their body for a brief time.’

Jim felt his own eyebrows rise, but knew Spock better than to expect an apology. Nothing to apologize in the truth.

‘But do you know mine?’ Jim then asked, and pulled Spock on a couch with him, so that the Vulcan sat down on top of him, his knees on both sides of Jim.  He kept looking at those beautiful brown eyes, which seemed to radiate reassurance.

‘The ship’s computer has extensive information on the genetics of the crewmen, Jim. I have been through it, and your history in that sense is as clean as mine. Even more so, in fact. Logically the risk of any disease is negligible.’

Jim felt that Spock was leaving something out. He bent his head slightly, and with a smile looked askance at Spock. His long eyelashes shadowed Jim’s eyes just so, and he knew the Vulcan felt the power of his charm. Jim didn’t need to ask. Flustered, Spock admitted: ‘I saw it logical to verify our biological compatibility before any further actions.’

Jim moved his hands on Spock’s body, caressing his sides and his strong back. His fingers slipped underneath Spock’s shirt, and touched the hot skin of the Vulcan. As an adaptation to their hot homeland T’Khasi, Vulcans have no hair or pores on their skin to avoid dehydration and to keep the skin relatively cool in the deserts. But Spock, being only half-Vulcan, had delightful black hairs on his chest. Jim loved it, as he loved every other inch of the man on his lap. Playfully he rubbed Spock’s tight buttocks.

‘You were spying on me! Why?’ Jim asked, eagerly waiting to hear the answer.

‘I found you interesting.’ Spock’s fingers stroked Jim’s shining bronze hair, and he leaned closer towards Jim. Spock’s lips touched Jim’s ear very tenderly.

‘And now, my little captain, I find you extremely desirable,’ Spock whispered huskily into Jim’s ear.  Jim felt a pleasant tingling sensation spreading in his body, and didn’t even notice how his nails dug into Spock’s skin.

‘Yes, Jim. I know you want me. I saw your face when I was in the cell. I saw your hunger for me. I was defenseless, jailed, chained, and you found me helplessness exciting, did you not?’

Spock’s breath was hot on Jim’s skin, like an ancient dragon had been whispering its secrets to him.

‘Yes,’ Jim breathed. Spock was pressing him against the back of the couch, nailing him in place. Spock used his hands to press Jim’s shoulders, preventing the human from leaning forwards and stealing a kiss.

‘You want to subdue me,’ Spock snarled, and let his tongue touch Jim’s sensitive skin. Kirk shivered, uncertain. What was going on?

‘Well, my little captain. There’s something you should know,’ Spock growled, his voice low and almost threatening. His lips brushed Jim’s ear, and his fingers started to slowly spread around the captain’s neck. The fingers were cold, harsh – and before Jim even realized, Spock had grabbed his shoulders hard. Spock got up and pulled Jim up with him. The Vulcan bent Jim’s hands behind his back, produced a piece of coarse rope from his pocket and easily tied Jim’s hands together at the wrists.

Jim was utterly confused. This was not what he had had in mind! The feeling of helplessness was beginning to gnaw on his mind. It was not entirely pleasant.

‘My life, my discipline, is all about control. I …’ Spock walked behind Jim, and pulled the rope tighter, so that it chafed on Jim’s skin, and its roughness felt like tiny needles on his wrists.

‘…will…’

With one hand Spock easily tore Jim’s shirt open, and pulled it off the captain. One half fell on the floor, the other half Spock kept and used it to gag Jim’s mouth shut. At this Kirk started to panic a bit: he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t speak! But at the same time a teeny spark inside his mind had lit.

‘… not… ‘

Spock picked up the other half of the torn shirt, and used it to cover Jim’s eyes. At this the captain started to really panic. Jim was turning his head from side to side, frantically trying to keep track on where Spock was and what was happening around him. The rags on his eyes were also muffling his hearing, making it difficult to tell where the sounds were coming from.

‘… be subdued.’

With that, Spock forcefully pressed down on Jim’s shoulders and forced the human on his knees on the floor. Gagged, half naked, blind and tied, Kirk could but obey. His skin was on goosebumps, and he was shaking, his breath was fast and shallow.

‘Do you understand? Nod if you do,’ Spock’s voice came from in front of Kirk. Jim nodded eagerly. He understood, yes, very well, please could Spock now untie him?

There was silence. Jim sat on his knees, arms tied behind his back, head obediently bowed, waiting.

‘You are irresistible, Jim.’

Spock’s sharp nails drew red marks on Jim’s coppery skin. To ease the pain, his hot and agile tongue followed, painting over the scratches with warm saliva. Jim flinched in surprise when the Vulcan’s teeth sank into his neck, and a tiny trickle of blood ran down his chest. Jim’s brows furrowed, but his nipples grew hard and the waves of pleasure returned, dancing over his body.  Spock noticed it, and let his fingers run over the pink nubs, twisting them gently. Through the gag Jim uttered a cry of delight.

‘But I will not be subdued. Not by you, or by anyone.’

Suddenly Spock was behind Kirk, and pushed the captain’s head down.

‘You are mine now, Jim. Do you surrender to me, captain? Will you obey me?’

Jim tried to nod, but his head was bent so low it was impossible. He had to really push back against Spock’s strong hand to be able to raise his head enough to really nod.

‘Then why do you defy me?’ Spock’s voice was strict, but Jim could hear the passion in it. Spock tugged Jim’s hair almost painfully. Jim should’ve known. He should’ve understood. The Vulcan was a proud creature, one not to be kept caged. He hadn’t only put his Vulcan in a cage, but had enjoyed it and … and abused the jailed Spock.

This time Jim hadn’t got the strength to push back. He kept is head low, and let his shoulders and back relax. This seemed to please Spock, whose tight grip relaxed, and again he stroke Jim’s head gently, letting his fingers brush Jim’s shoulders and upper back.

‘Good. You do obey.’

Jim felt warmth on his back as Spock kneeled down behind him, and pressed himself against Jim’s back. The Vulcan rest his head on Jim’s shoulder, and his hands embraced Jim. Again those nimble fingers caressed Jim’s chest before wondering lower and unbuttoning Jim’s pants. Without preamble Spock reached inside Jim’s boxers and pulled out his pink, swollen member. Jim grunted in pleasure, and spread his knees further apart. Spock’s chuckle sounded like distant thunder. With one hand the Vulcan caressed Jim’s throat, pushing his head up, while the other hand found the tender skin of Jim’s scrotum. Spock squeezed Jim’s balls gently, and then grabbed the shaft of Jim’s penis. His hand felt burning hot. Jim tried to lean back on Spock, but found it impossible due to the hand pressing on his throat.

Spock let his fingers press Jim’s penis tenderly, and then began to move his hand up and down the shaft. His other hand moved from Jim’s throat to his chest, and pinched on Jim’s hard, pink nipples.  

‘Do you enjoy this?’ Spock whispered huskily. Jim nodded, and tried to answer, but managed only a weak mumble. The pleasure was overwhelming. He couldn’t support his weight on his thighs anymore, and fell down, sitting now with his legs bent beneath him.

Spock kept stroking Jim’s penis. Jim barely noticed how the pressure on his chest eased. He felt the warm touch of the Vulcan on his upper back, felt the fingers sliding down his spine, sending hot and cold shivers through Jim’s body. Spock’s lips touched the back of Jim’s neck, and Jim couldn’t stifle a moan. His penis was throbbing in Spock’s hand.

‘How about… this?’ Spock asked softly. His fingers disappeared from Jim’s back, then reappeared right above his butt, wet with saliva. Jim tensed. Spock kept kissing and licking the back of his neck to help him relax. Slowly Spock’s fingers slid down between Kirk’s buttocks, but still the captain stayed taut. Spock let his fingers caress Jim’s balls for a moment, and then massaged the tender tip of the human’s penis, while whispering calmly to Jim’s ear. With some effort Jim forced his muscles to relax, and allowed Spock’s fingers to slide lower, until they reached the tight pucker between his buttocks.  Wet and nimble, Spock’s finger slipped easily inside Jim.

Jim cried out in pleasure. The gag in his mouth muffled his voice, but his message was clear. Spock grunted, gratified. He pushed another finger inside Jim, while still squeezing the captain’s penis, moving his hand up and down the swollen shaft in increasing speed. Simultaneously his fingers glided out from Jim’s butt, and then back in again, faster and harder, until Kirk was panting and moaning constantly.

‘Yes, you do enjoy this, my little pet,’ Spock whispered. His own voice was hoarse and thick with lust, and his breath was ragged. He couldn’t hide his excitement from Jim, who felt twice as good from causing such pleasure to the Vulcan.  He slumped weakly forward when the Vulcan released his grip for a moment.

Jim heard faint shuffling from behind him. He didn’t have to wait long: Spock returned, his body radiating heat on Jim’s skin, and this time his both hands embraced Jim and grabbed his cock and balls eagerly. Jim realized what Spock wanted, and mustered the strength to sit back on his knees again. He spread his legs as far as the trousers on his knees allowed, and tried to bend down to allow Spock the room he’d need. Spock murmured, pleased with Jim’s efforts. Forcefully he then bit on the back of Jim’s neck, and pushed his erect penis inside Jim. Despite the gag, Jim moaned loudly.  Spock pulled out, and eased his bite into tender kisses, relieving the pain on Jim’s neck. With a grunt he thrust again, sliding easily deep into Jim. Jim’s butt was tight, but he relaxed his muscles enough to enjoy the experience very much indeed. Jim was again teetering on the edge of orgasm, and tried to push back against Spock to allow for deeper penetration. He was rewarded with just that, as Spock increased pace and strength. The Vulcan growled deeply, and kept on thrusting, his large organ filling Jim entirely, while his fingers skillfully rubbed the human’s penis.

‘That’s right, my pet, enjoy it.’

Spock thrust in hard. His hand was squeezing Jim’s penis hard and moving up and down mercilessly, whipping Jim closer to the climax… and finally over the edge. Jim roared. His wet seed flowed over Spock’s fingers in abundance. In his orgasm Jim’s muscles relaxed, and Spock was able to push himself deep inside Jim, until his member was entirely inside, surrounded by the wet tightness of Jim. Jim was already bent over, his forehead leaning on the floor, when Spock reached his own fulfillment. Once more he thrusted, and spilled his dry, sticky semen inside Jim. For a second, Spock rested against Jim’s back, unable to control himself, shaking in the storm of the orgasm. Jim was panting. A trickle of sweat fell on the floor.

He heard Spock getting up, and heard a faint rustle, apparently because the Vulcan was getting dressed. Jim took no offence: he knew the Vulcan’s skin to be telepathic, and that exposure could be almost a painful experience unless strict mental control was maintained. After just a moment Spock embraced Jim, and gently lifted the man on his feet before removing the rags from his eyes and mouth. Jim blinked for a long time to regain his vision, and swallowed several times to moisten his dry mouth. Spock opened the rope and released Jim’s hands.

Jim still couldn’t speak. He simply staggered to the ‘fresher, certain that Spock would understand and wait for him. When he returned, squeaky clean and scented with a mild aftershave, Spock was indeed sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. A faint smile played on his lips.

‘Well, that was something,’ Jim managed while drying his hair with a towel. He started to dress, when Spock interrupted him.

‘Your body pleases me to no end’, said Spock, admiring Jim with bright eyes.

‘Does it now?’ Jim smiled, and took care to let the dim light of the room to dance on his muscles and golden hair. Spock didn’t respond, he merely kept looking and smiling. _He smiles to please me,_ Kirk realized. Vulcans do not smile. Spock had learned it pleases Jim, and was now looking at him askance, his incredibly beautiful eyes sparkling. Jim had to tuck on his boxers to prevent Spock from seeing how his body was reacting - again.

‘I assume you need to rest. I took the liberty to make the bed for you,’ Spock said then, and Jim noticed the top blanket on his bed was rolled down. Gratefully Jim sat on the bed and slid down between the clean white sheets. He was indeed tired, now that he came to think about it. But Spock would not need sleep, would he?

But the Vulcan didn’t need to be asked. He stood up, walked over to the bed and lay down beside Jim. For a while Jim tried to chat with him, to keep him company, but his eyelids kept drooping, and his sentences became fragmented.  Spock rolled on his back, and pulled the captain closer, so that Jim could rest his head on Spock’s chest.

‘Sleep now, _t´hyla_. I will guard your sleep.’

Soon there was only a faint, sleepy snuffle and the calm breathing of the Vulcan, wide awake and up to his pointy ears devoted to the man beside him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The familiar whistle of the intercom woke Jim up. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, and peeped out from underneath Spock’s blanket. The Vulcan was still lying next to him, his gentle eyes full of tenderness as he watched Jim blinking and groping his hair.  Jim crawled closed to Spock, and snuggled himself comfortably against the Vulcan. Spock’s skin on his naked upper body felt warm, and he planted a kiss on Jim’s golden curls to welcome the man to his arms. Almost annoyed by this nuisance Jim grumbled, dug himself deeper in the sheets and fell right back to sleep.

‘ _Bridge to captain, come in Jim._ ’ Mr. Sulu’s voice over the intercom was kind as always, but this time it had a sense of urgency in it. Spock took a look at the sleeping man beside him. Jim’s face was calm, and his body was entirely relaxed. There was no sign of the stress and anxiety Spock knew Jim carried in his heart- He couldn’t understand it. All the evidence proved that James T. Kirk was a good captain, and that he had a skilled crew to assist him. Why the stress then? Probably it was _emotional_. Spock’s logical mind grimaced at the thought of emotions like a child would grimace at healthy food. Yuck.

Carefully Spock got up and answered the intercom in a quiet whisper.

‘Spock here. What is it?’

‘ _Where’s the captain?_ ’ Mr. Sulu asked, surprised, before he realized it wasn’t even important. He could just as well bother Mr. Spock, who anyway would be more interested in this. ‘ _We’ve located an unknown planet, Mr. Spock. It’s not far from our planned course, and initial scans are still running. We’re waiting for full results, but it seems to be class K or possibly class L, relatively old and stable.’_

‘Acknowledged. I’m on my way.’

Used to Spock’s tendency to say only that which was necessary, Mr. Sulu never gave another thought at where the captain was. Spock, mostly for the same reasons, saw it unnecessary to inform the helmsman about the current position of the captain. He donned a perfectly trim uniform, took one last look at the sleeping captain and left.

The doors closed behind Spock. Under the soft blankets Jim relaxed, grinned and continued his pleasant dreams.

By the time Spock arrived on the bridge additional scans were completed. He reviewed the results on his science station, intently staring at the blue screen of his viewer.

‘The diversion to the planet would take us approximately 10 hours at warp 2, sir,’ Mr. Sulu announced after some careful calculations. ‘Not including the time spent on the surface or in the orbit.’

Spock made no response. The planet was indeed class L. It might have life, but the climate was freezing. The best they could expect were simple plants and psychrophilic micro-organisms, and possibly short food chains regulated by the weather conditions. The planet was not large, had no moons, and was far enough from a sun to have practically no summer at all. Then again 10 hours was not asking much. The medication they had on board could easily wait for longer.  Spock thought for a moment. If they would leave the new planet’s orbit in 23 hours 17 minutes and approximately 30 seconds, there was a 99,5 % chance they would deliver the medicine on time given the standard possibilities of most common types of delay.

Spock asked Uhura to try scanning all frequencies for any transmissions from the direction of the planet. The first rounds yielded nothing, so he had Uhura continue her channel-surfing. Spock himself continued on analyzing the results of the various scans.

‘Boo,’ Jim whispered in Spock’s ear. His disappointment was obvious when the Vulcan didn’t even flinch. And he had been so careful to tiptoe on to the bridge! How was he ever to surprise his all-seeing officer? Jim slumped down on his seat.

‘Studying the planet does have possibilities in discovering new life as our mission statement requires, captain. It is recommended to get closer for more accurate scans.’

‘Spock, I didn’t even ask about that yet. You read minds now or what?’

‘It was logical to assume you would have enquired about that, captain.’

‘Yeah, right. So wh-‘

‘The detailed plan of the excursion waits for your approval. The estimated time is 15 hours, 18 if a landing party is sent to gather samples from the surface. The medicine we have on board will not be adversely affected by the delay.’

 A PADD was reached to Jim, who picked it up and glanced at the plan.

‘Damn you, Mr. All-knowing,’ Jim muttered while scribbling his signature to accept the plan. Spock was the only one to hear his mutterings. He was practically beaming (by Vulcan standards, that is).

‘That is very kind of you, Jim!’

Jim heaved a deep sigh.

***

McCoy tried to burrow inside his top-quality jacket. He could not be cold, because of his insulating clothing. The wind was screaming, and snow-like icy particles whirled around the landing party. His face was already reddening due to increased blood flow to the exposed areas of his skin.

‘Are you sure I’m needed, Jim?’ he asked for the tenth time. And for the tenth time Jim replied, his teeth chattering: ‘Yes, Bones. They may need medical assistance, and we may too unless we get away from this wind soon.’

Further scans of the new planet had shown life forms living right under the planet’s surface. After circulating the orbit for a short while they had been able to pinpoint the location of the beings, and had beamed down. Other technical engineers up on board the Enterprise were collecting samples from the atmosphere and calculating other information about the planet’s annual rhythms, internal composition and chemical balance.

‘The scans showed a man-made building right ahead,’ informed Spock, his voice calm even though he must have been freezing inside. With the Vulcan leading the way, McCoy and Kirk started fighting their way through the biting winds. They kept their eyes shielded from the sharp ice particles, and didn’t see the gray, composite plastic entrance until they nearly bumped to it.  To their surprise the door slided open as they approached. Cautiously but glad to get out of the storm the landing party entered the small room and climbed down the stepladder placed against the back wall.

The descend took several minutes. McCoy was huffing and puffing when they finally reached a large hall, illuminated brightly with gas-emitting lights. It was comfortably warm inside, so Kirk, Spock and McCoy removed their outer clothing and left them on the ground. The walls were white and clean, and the only audible noise was a low humming.

‘The heating system,’ guessed Spock. Jim nodded, and kept peering around to see if anyone was home. But no one was to be seen. Carefully the explorers made their way deeper into the complex, keeping together and staying alert. They had not been able to communicate with the people ( _or creatures_ , Jim reminded himself, _although the ladder had been quite suitable both for Humanoids and Vulcanoids_ ).  As always, their phasers were ready and set to stun.

Clonk! Clonk! Clonk!

All around them the doors to the small room the party was standing in slammed shut. The humming noise grew in intensity, and was soon almost too high-pitched to hear. The air in the room grew very cold, very fast.

‘It’s a trap!’ shouted McCoy, shuffling closer to Jim and Spock to share body heat. They were grouped back to back, keeping an eye on every inch of the room. Soon Jim noticed his breath came out as white mist. When there was no sight of their captors, Jim raced around the room, frantically trying to find a way out or a way to turn the heating back on. Spock stood still, turning this way and that with his tricorder.

‘Enterprise, come in! Come in Enterprise! Beam us up _immediately_!’ Bones shouted in his communicator. But the quick change in the temperature had rendered the device useless. All Bones received was static. Jim tried the same, with the same results. He threw his communicator against one of the doors in frustration.

‘Three life-forms are approaching, still 100 yards away and some levels lower than we are,’ Spock announced calmly. McCoy noted that Spock’s face was noticeably whiter than it had been a moment ago. The Vulcan was getting frost bites. His high cheekbones were ornamented with white scribbles, almost like a tattoo, and without asking McCoy knew Spock was suffering.  Jim could feel Spock’s pain through their bond.

‘Bones, help me!’ Jim shouted to the doctor, who was – as usual – fretting and shouting at Jim and Spock “to do something”. But the air in the room grew colder still.

Jim could feel his own fingers go numb. His teeth were rattling uncontrollably, and he thought he tasted blood in his mouth. It hurt to keep his eyes open. His heart was racing in a vain attempt to keep the blood circulating in the muscles, already stiff from the cold. His legs were shaking.

‘We… cannot survive…. too cold… tissue damage…’ McCoy’s voice was quiet, his lips the hue of a frozen pink rose. Jim would not give up. He felt rather than saw Spock collapsing on the floor. McCoy stumbled closer to the Vulcan, and with a shaky hand he ran his medical scanner over the still body. Jim looked back just in time to see McCoy shaking his head, until his own eyelids started to droop as his body fought to keep his vitals functioning. Jim fell to his hands and knees. The floor felt like ice, only colder, as he crawled to Bones and Spock. Bones, too, had gone quiet. He was slumped next to Spock, his stiff hand still holding the scanner, his lashes white spikes under his closed eyes.

Jim dragged himself to his companions. Like a wolf protecting its young he covered Spock’s body with his own. Every movement was an enormous effort. Slowly, he wrapped himself around Spock. He was not going to die. Neither was Spock, or McCoy. He’d… he’d fight… he’d protect… survive…

Jim lost his consciousness at the same moment the tricorder beeped a quiet warning, and one of the three doors was opened.

***

Back at the Enterprise Mr. Scott, now in charge, was not feeling his usual relaxed self. There was no response from the landing party, and now it seemed like their communicators weren’t even on. For a while they could locate one of the devices, but soon that signal went dead, too.

Scotty stood still, deep in thought, leaning against the railing on the bridge. The ship was safe, scans indicated no activity towards it. No scans, no weapons; just a few life forms on the planet, closing in to the spot where the landing party had been located last. Were the beings friendly or hostile? Were they saving the landing party, or threatening them? Scotty was not surprised that the communicators had died: the weather down there was horrifying even to a Scotsman, son of the harsh highlands. He started to think that the expedition was poorly planned to start with.

‘When can we see the landing site?’ he asked. Mr. Sulu checked the position of the landing site against their current trajectory, calculated the visibility ranges of the scans and informed: ‘One hour, Scotty. Less than that if we start up her engines instead of hovering up here.’

‘Aye, but ‘em bloody scientists will flay me alive if we interrupt their bloody samplin’’, Scott growled in his strong accent. ‘We wait for now. If there’s no response by the time we’re above the landing site again, we’ll send a security team down.’

‘Shall I send a short report of our situation to the closest starbase, Sir?’ inquired Uhura. It felt like a call for help to Scott. A cry for mommy-Starfleet to come and save her lost daughter The Enterprise from a pickle. Nevertheless, he nodded at Uhura. Better safe than sorry.

He needed a drink. When the captain was back on board, Scott would demand him to hand over the bottles of that nearly divine Scottish whiskey he knew Jim had.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Pain. Pain and mind-numbing coldness. Something hard against his stomach.

An indeterminable time later James Kirk came to again. Cold, still so very cold. But less pain.

Later again. Jim couldn’t open his eyes at first. He was laying on something hard, but relatively warm. A floor, perhaps. He was still cold on the inside, and his fingers, ears and nose were still hurting badly. But he could breathe: the air felt good in his lungs, good and warm. Little by little the pain subdued, and was partially replaced with a burning sensation, like his skin was on fire. Frostbites, he thought.

A sudden thought flared up in his mind: where was Spock? Where was Bones? Before Jim even opened his eyes he concentrated, directed all his focus on the corner of his mind where his mental bond to Spock was. There was no echo when he tried to reach Spock’s mind. No one there.

‘McCoy? Bones?’ Jim’s voice was barely a whisper. His lips were sore and felt dry.

Nothing.

‘Anyone?’

Still no answer.

Jim’s mind was filled with desperation. He was alone, he was hurt, and he was cold. He was also hungry, now that he thought about it, and he had to urinate _._ As he was still mentally cataloguing his problems, Jim felt a mental nudge. It was like a distant memory, a fleeting idea that was gone in an instant, a mere dandelion fluff of a thought.

‘Spock?’

Finally there was a grunt some yards away. Jim scrambled to his feet, and cursed as the pain hit his frostbitten toes. He saw Spock, but poorly. His vision was blurred, sizzling, so that it was difficult to focus his gaze. But Spock was alive! The skin on Jim’s lips peeled as he tried to smile. Behind the quivering curtain which was before  Jim’s eyes he saw Spock getting up and shaking himself like a beast waking up. And that’s when he realized it.

There was nothing wrong with his eyes. Jim was staring at Spock, who was behind a wall of some sort, transparent but distorting the view slightly. The wall continued to both directions. Jim followed it with his eyes, turned with the wall, until he had made a complete circle. He was in a cell. Next to him, separated only by a relatively thin wall, was Spock, also imprisoned. McCoy was nowhere to be seen. Jim feared the worst.

Spock had managed to stand up. He looked bad. Jim stumbled closer, and carefully reached for the wall separating them. It vibrated, and Jim’s touch sent tiny cripples spreading throughout the material, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t yield, either. On the other side Spock came to meet him. Spock reached his hand to meet Jim’s, but felt only the tingling sensation of touching the shield separating the two cells. Spock faltered and fell on his knees, his head sagging.

‘Spock!’

Jim’s shout was full of anger and desperation. The Vulcan struggled to raise his head enough to look Jim in the eyes.  He tried to speak, but Jim couldn’t hear him.

‘Spock! God damn it Spock, don’t die on me!’

Jim banged the shield with his fists, threw himself against it and tried to tear the wall down with his fingers. On the other side Spock raised his hand again, as if trying to calm Jim down. Jim gasped for breath. The Vulcan was a creature of a hot desert planet. The cold must have affected him much worse than it did Jim, not to mention McCoy – where ever he was. Spock’s hand fell, and he sat on the ground with his legs crossed. He was absolutely still; the only movement was the gentle rising and lowering of his shoulders as he breathed.  

Jim felt hollow inside, hollow and hurt. But there it was again, that distant feeling… of calm. It was strange. Jim cocked his head to one side and waited. The feeling returned, a warm, fuzzy feeling. It felt like a tree had blossomed in his mind, and was now reaching its branches all over his body, spreading hope and strength to where there was none.  Jim’s heartbeat returned to normal. His pain lessened, and the throbbing anger in his mind subsided. Behind the shield Spock raised his head and smiled.

‘You… you’re doing this?’ Jim whispered in amazement. Spock didn’t reply, he just watched, brown eyes bright and sparkling in his otherwise pale face.  But there was something else in those eyes. A plea, perhaps? Jim pressed his mouth shut, closed his eyes and concentrated.

_Spock, are you alright?_

_Yes, Jim. But I need time. I’m hurt. Support me… please._

_I’m right here Spock. I will not leave you._

Jim focused. He tried sending all his strength, love, hope and resolve to Spock. Jim imagined that the notional tree inside him blossomed. He imagined picking up a single seed from a single flower, and knew that the seed packed all the energy of the tree. He tried sending that mental seed, that little encouraging thought over to Spock to help him recuperate.

_Spock, I…_

Jim was scared. He knew what he wanted to say, and what he should say. A small part of Spock, that part which was human, would understand and be strengthened by Jim’s words. But what would the Vulcan side of Spock do?  Would it turn against Jim if he voiced his feelings and emotions? Would it make Jim look weak and thus unwanted?

Spock shivered. Jim banished his selfish thoughts and concentrated again on healing Spock’s mind with his own. He couldn’t touch Spock, but it helped if he even tried. Jim reached out again, pressing his palms against the shield and leaning on to it. Every single cell in his body was concentrated on Spock. He didn’t know if the Vulcan was receiving his thoughts or if they were any use whatsoever, but he had to try. He could not just stand still and watch Spock suffer.

Spock sat absolutely still. Jim had to look very carefully to see the almost non-existent heaving of the Vulcan’s shoulders, which suddenly seemed awfully weak and narrow. Again he had trouble seeing: his vision flickered and warped. This time it wasn’t because of the shield. It was because of tears.

_Spock, I can’t lose you. Don’t die on me, you hear!_

No answer. Jim crumbled down on the floor, his head hanging between his hands. But the tiny, dim light inside his mind still shone. Spock was alive. Jim forced himself to believe the Vulcan – _his_ Vulcan – was meditating, letting his mind focus on healing his body. Surely they had such disciplines in their culture? And anyway, there were other matters to attend to.

Methodically Jim started to walk around his cell, small as it was, only a few meters in diameter. The shield around it was solid, only some three meters high but offered no chances of climbing over it. The only peculiarity was a small hole on the floor, which Jim used as a drain and relieved himself. The cell was in a plain room, which had some five round pedestals all in all, and an empty space in the middle. Jim assumed they were cages, too, but didn’t see how the shield could be activated.  He fell on his hands and knees again, and started to examine the floor as best he could.

There was a soft hiss. A door opened in the wall opposite to Jim’s cell. To his surprise, Jim witnessed the grand entrance of McCoy, followed by two adult-sized humanoids clad in shades of white and grey.

‘McCoy!’ Jim shouted, both relieved and nervous at the same time. His experience as a captain soon took over, and he straightened up, facing his jailors and his old friend proudly and calmly.

‘Jim! They told me you’re alright, but boy am I glad to see you! You wouldn’t believe the technology they have here, it’s just … amazing! Their nanotech is much more sophisticated than ours, and their hand-held scanners can do the job of a lab full of med techs! ‘

Bones was apparently in good health.  Jim could not help feeling frustrated and a tad angry – it seemed the good doctor had everything under control, while he was left here to rot and watch Spock suffer.

‘Bones, see to Spock. Then explain yourself. ‘ Jim’s voice could have crushed diamonds.  McCoy became annoyed.

‘What’s there to see, Jim? He’s seems quite healthy to me,’ Bones snorted. And so seemed, as Jim dared to look. Spock was still sitting, but his head was held high, his eyes bright and his skin much closer to its normal color. He was breathing fast, but that was to be expected from someone with pulse of 200 at rest. Spock had no need to confirm the doctor’s observation.

Jim looked at Bones, his normally gentle eyes flashing.

‘Jim… _Are_ you alright?’ Bones asked, looking at Jim suspiciously. He took a step closer to the shield, glanced at his alien companions as if asking for something, but nothing happened. The shield stayed up.

‘They are a fearful people, Jim. And while their technology is excellent, they lack knowledge and understanding in medical matters. The freezing chamber we … found, was a trap meant for enemy tribes, who apparently hunt the local inhabitants. I’m not sure, we have no real common language here but they’ve been trying to explain. Anyway they noticed I’m a medical man, so they took me aside, revived me and took me to see a sick infant.  The kid’s better now.’

Jim stood still, straining to hear every word Bones was saying. His mind was still a bit of a mess, so it was difficult to understand.

‘Bones, have you contacted the Enterprise? Can you get us out of here? ‘

Bones seemed surprised that such demands were made to him. ‘No!’ he rasped. ‘Jim, I had a patient to tend to! I had no time to play with the communicators!’

Jim realized Bones was as shaken by their experiences as he was. He changed tactics.

‘Of course. Could you try now if the communicator works? They were taken away from me and Mr. Spock, otherwise we could’ve tried it ourselves.’

This seemed to soothe McCoy, who flipped his comm unit open and called for the Enterprise. There was no response, but at least now they could hear static noise. The device was not entirely dead, then. McCoy turned to his companion aliens again, and handed the communicator over to them.

‘Can you help us? We need that to reach our ship,’ he explained, pointing upwards and pretending to holler to someone in the ceiling. They started to grunt, and began to leave the room. They seemed intent on taking Bones with them.

‘And about getting us out of here, Bones?’ Jim shouted, leaning against the shield as if he could reach Bones through it.

‘I’m working on it, Jim. The language… I’m doing what I can. I’m no diplomat, but once they understand we’re friends, they’ll be bound to trust you two too!’

And just like that Bones was gone.

Jim turned to Spock.

‘You’re feeling better, Spock?’

‘Affirmative, captain.’

‘You still look like shit.’

This remark was met by a quizzical look. ‘I assure you, my health is adequate. Regrettably I do not have enough data to provide an accurate estimate of the time we’ve spent here. I would estimate, roughly, that we have approximately 4 hours and 13 minutes left.’

‘Left? For what?’

‘The medicine, captain. It must be delivered on time, thus we must be on the Enterprise on time to continue the journey.’

‘Right, I remembered that.  Approximately _…_ You’re sure it isn’t 14 hours and 15 minutes?’ Jim smirked. Spock had no sense of sarcasm, he knew it, but his confused look was just so cute! And right on cue, there it was: the risen eyebrow, the cocked head, and the sparkle in his eye. Jim felt himself purring on the inside.

‘As always, I make my estimations as accurate as possible.’

Jim smiled, warmly. He was going to live. So was Spock. They would get out of here. Who really cared about the meds on board? Hell, if there were any good stuff, they might use them themselves! It’s not as if he had always been above taking an extra pill or two, provided that they were safe … well, relatively. He mentioned as much to Spock, who again entirely failed to understand the joke.

‘You know you look very cute when your infallible logic fails you,’ Jim said with a smile. And it was true: Spock had regained much of his health, was looking better every second, and Jim’s own pains had lessened significantly. Spock merely stood up and stretched himself. His long elegant limbs moved in perfect harmony, and his body was in complete balance no matter how he twisted himself.

‘And when you do that,’ Jim added. He planted his palms against the shield separating him from the Vulcan, and stared at Spock hungrily.

Spock stopped in mid-stretch, and looked at Jim in askance.

‘Oh, and especially when you do _that_. Very, mmmh,  cute.’ Jim’s voice was throaty and seductive. Spock must’ve heard it, because kept his look for a while, then kneeled down and reached his arms as far on the floor as he could, as if he was crouched in prayer. Jim remained quiet. Spock raised his butt up and now truly looked like a cat. Jim had a vague idea about how to pin a tail to his Vulcan feline.

‘You tease me.’ Jim noted flatly. He was both excited and surprised at this rather unexpected show.

Jim ran his finger down the shield, trying to will it to disappear so he could touch Spock. Again Spock changed position, this time he was facing Jim. He sat his legs and pressed his palms to his thighs, keeping his wrists together. Spock looked up at Jim, and said meekly: ‘It would not do to displease the captain.’

Spock pressed his head down. Jim stared at him, speechless. There he was: his Vulcan kneeling before him, obedient and beautiful, never truly subdued but offering himself to Jim. Jim felt almost a static sensation in his groin, and only managed to grunt. Spock wasn’t looking. He couldn’t see if  ... if Jim would touch himself…

‘Do I please you?’ Spock looked up at Jim again. His eyes were deep wells, and Jim felt his self-control was decidedly walking towards those wells and about to drown.

 _Spock will not be subdued_ , Jim reminded himself. _But he is in need of duty. In need of need._

‘Take off your shirt,’ Jim commanded testily. He was unsure where this was going. He certainly knew what he hoped would happen, but what did Spock think of it? He tried probing their mental bond for answers, and thought he sensed a quiet approval.

‘Did you hear me? Remove your shirt,’ he said again, this time with steel in his voice. Without further delay Spock obeyed. Nimbly, like a dancer, he pulled his uniform shirt over his head, revealing his trained and lithe upper body to Jim’s hungry gaze.

‘Turn around,’ Jim commanded again, then watched the Vulcan twirl around on the balls of his feet. Jim kneeled down himself, and admired Spock openly. Spock was strong, muscular but still slim, and the way his skin waved over the muscles was purely magical. His neck curved just so, and those ears! Jim could’ve licked and kissed Spock’s ears forever and then some. His hand slipped down to his pants and met a hard bulge.

Spock turned his head a bit, but kept his eyes humbly on the floor.

‘So, little captain. How can I please you?’

 _What kind of freakish logic allows him to do this to me?_ Jim’s mind bellowed in amazement. _Cold and distant, except when we’re separated by a damn shield, locked away in an underground dungeon on an inhospitable hell of a planet! It sure is a piece of cake to tame a Vulcan, if_ this _is all it takes…_

Without further commands, Spock turned around and faced Jim again. He stayed down, kept his legs crossed beneath him and leaned back. His thighs spread apart invitingly. Spock supported his upper body on bent arms, glanced at Jim and then closed his eyes. Jim received a nearly painful shock as he tried to step through the shield and simply sit down on Spock’s lap. He thought he heard Spock chuckle, and almost pulled his hand back from his pants. But the show wasn’t over.

Spock shifted his weight on one arm, and raised the other on his stomach. Jim watched, increasingly randy, as Spock ran his finger over his body, rubbing his muscles and even scratching himself.

‘Oh lord, Spock, you’re amazing,’ Jim panted.  

Spock glanced at him.

‘Yes, I am Lord Spock.’ With his one free hand Spock unbuttoned his trousers a little, letting the canvas reveal a small but so very delicious v-shaped area of his skin and dark hair. ‘I see I have pleased you, pet.  Good.’

Surprised at the change, Jim’s hand stopped its movement down in his trousers.

‘No no, pet. Go on. Don’t quit now.’

Uncertainly Jim continued, touching himself, flustered by Spock’s intent gaze. But he was too far to stop now, his erection a hard, pulsing beast in his hand. And so he continued, almost shyly looking at Spock. The Vulcan regarded him calmly. Spock was again caressing himself, and slowly, teasingly opened is trousers a bit more. His abs were tight, and his masculine hips formed a beautifully curving V, narrowing down to what was still hidden by fabric.  His skin was a shade greener down there.

Jim gasped as an especially strong wave of pleasure rocked him gently. Spock licked his lips. He sat back up, leaned down and practically crawled towards Jim like a lizard. His eyes were full of fire. His tongue, dark and greenish, flashed between his lips. Spock grinned.

Jim was close to his climax. His hand was moving furiously, and he was panting loudly.

Spock reached the shield, and crawled up to it, like he was a snake trying to find a way to reach Jim. As he stood up, easily lifting himself using his powerful legs, his entire body rubbed against the shield. His skin was scintillating in colors unknown, and that bare naked region of his groin flashed electrically. It was so close! Without noticing it himself Jim reached forward, towards Spock, hoping and trying to reach that hot and inviting skin with his tongue. Spock continued swaying against the shield, rocking slowly like he was making love to an unseen companion. His hands were spread to the sides, his fingers clutching the shield.

Jim’s eyes were glued to the hidden bulge beneath Spock’s navel. He forced himself to lean back, and to enjoy the full sight of Spock, half-naked, swaying gently, and his naked skin sparkling in the strange power of the shield. In a sudden surge of sexual desire Jim threw himself against the shield, and gnarled viciously as the orgasm shook his body, crashing him at the shield again. And there he remained, his pants wet with semen, sitting, panting and sweating.

Spock used that time to get fully dressed again. When the door just then opened, Spock noted McCoy’s entrance calmly, while Jim leaped up from the floor, wiped his hand to his pants and looked every bit like a teen boy caught red-handed.

This time McCoy was accompanied by three of the aliens. One of them activated a screen next to the door, punched a few keys and lowered the shields of the cells. Jim’s mind was still boggled by the orgasm, otherwise he’d have appreciated the impeccable timing. The shield, his nemesis, destroyed only seconds after he needed it gone.

Carefully both Jim and Spock stepped down from their pedestals, keeping an eye on the aliens. McCoy was smiling as he came to greet his colleagues, and ran his medical scanner over their bodies. His smile soon faded.

‘Jim, your readings are way off. How do you feel? I need to get you to the sick-‘

‘Bones, it’s okay. I’m… erm… surprised that you came. Uh, _arrived_. And I’m anxious to get back to the ship.’

‘Uh-huh. Well, at least Mr. Spock’s vitals are fine, for a Vulcan at least. Well, gentlemen, shall we go then? Our ride is arriving in a few minutes.’

Jim blinked. This was too easy. They were leaving just like that? It didn’t feel right. His mind recalled a term from literary studies. A disappointing or ineffective conclusion to a series of events: an anticlimax. Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. Ahem. He coughed.

‘Right, then. You seem to have taken care of everything, Bones. Mr. Spock?’

‘Captain, I suggest we extend our stay for -’, he paused for an instant,’ – twelve and a half minutes. I must collect samples from the planet surface.’

Jim blinked again. Samples? That’s all the bloody Vulcan was thinking? Bones politely looked down to prevent his smirk from showing. The whole situation seemed ridiculous. Jim felt like he was grabbing at odds and ends, trying desperately to tie a knot to close the case.

‘Right. You do that. But then we’re leaving. Bones, you have anything more to do here?’

‘No, Jim. I taught them what little I could in this time, and they’ve all been examined and treated to the best of my knowledge. I even got something to bring back to the Enterprise,’ he exclaimed happily and lifted a small black case he was holding.

And since there was nothing more to it, they bid farewell to the locals, climbed back up to the surface with their own trusty insulating jackets back on, and let Spock loose. The Vulcan dashed here and there, rummaging around like a squirrel on LSD, gathering, packing and labeling everything he could pry lose without a crowbar. This time Bones made no attempt to hide his amusement.

***

The Enterprise was accelerating rapidly. The planet, which the on-board scientists had for some reason named Mendum (it’s old Latin for ‘mistake’, Bones explained) was getting smaller and smaller on the main screen on the bridge. Jim settled himself comfortably on his seat.

‘Estimated time to arrival on the Starbase is six and a half days, Sir,’ the helmsman currently in charge of navigation stated.

‘We will be there on time to deliver the medicine in our cargo bays in perfect condition,’ added Spock from his station. Jim thanked them both.

 _Six days, Spock,_ Jim thought to himself. He remembered a certain collar, capable of creating most interesting sensations in its user. He also remembered how Spock’s skin felt beneath his fingertips, and how he tasted when they kissed. Kirk called up the rota on his PADD, and with a knowing smile assigned a few days of free time for Mr. Spock.

Starting tomorrow.

 


End file.
